


Camp Shenanigans

by WhyDoIWrite



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/F, Happy belated birthday Sonnett, Jan Camp, Kelley O'Hara: A Good Time, SheBelieves, Soulmates, Threesome - F/F/F, USWNT, Unrequited Crush That's Not So Unrequited Anymore, too little too late
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: Different versions of (mainly) Sonnett (but also others) at USWNT Camp.Chapter 1: Kristie+EmilyChapter 2: Lindsey+EmilyChapter 3: Rose+Lindsey+EmilyChapter 4: Lindsey+Kristie (pt 1)Chapter 5: Kelley+Emily (pt 1)Chapter 6: Kelley+Emily (pt 2)Chapter 7: Lindsey+KelleyChapter 8: Lindsey+Kristie+Emily (pt 2)
Relationships: Emily Sonnett/Kristie Mewis, Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett, Kelley O'Hara/Lindsey Horan, Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnet/Rose Lavelle, Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett, Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett/Kristie Mewis, Lindsey Horan/Kristie Mewis
Comments: 37
Kudos: 201





	1. A Long Time (Emily + Kristie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six weeks is a long time. Kristie's not waiting any longer.

“Wh- what are you doing?” Sonnett tears her lips away from Kristie’s as Kristie lets the heavy door fall shut behind them.

“I want to sit on your face,” she replies, resisting an eyeroll and her desire to say something sarcastic. She’s too worked up to bother with either right now, with what would most certainly be Sonnett’s confused response if she tried to be funny anyway.

Direct.

Direct is the way to go with her because even if it makes Sonnett blush – well, this is maybe a more extreme version of red than just a simple blush – there’s no ambiguity. She continues walking Sonnett back into her room. “It’s been six weeks, Sonnett.”

“But- but you’re not supposed to be in here,” Sonnett stammers.

“Seriously?” Kristie raises her eyebrows. “I wasn’t supposed to be in your room over Thanksgiving either,” she shoves Sonnett back onto the bed. “And you didn’t try to stop that.”

“Well, there was an escape then, back to your room.” Her eyes dart around her hotel room, like a trapped wild animal. “There’s no escape here. If we get caught…”

“No one’s supposed to be in here, so no one should be coming by.” Kristie crosses her arms, annoyed and stares down at the younger woman.

“I have friends. They might wanna hang out with me in the conference room or something.”

“I’ll hide.” And Kristie stands there, hovering over her, waiting for her to say something. “Six weeks. Because my fucking girlfriend was too stubborn to come see me in Boston. You came back home. It’s not like I was asking you to take an international flight. Six fucking weeks,” Kristie continues, unzipping her Nike windbreaker and tossing it aside, “without your tongue. Without your fingers. You wouldn’t even have phone sex with me, Sonnett!. You wouldn’t send me nudes- ”

“Yeah, because I mean, what if your phone gets hacked?” Sonnett interrupts.

“I tried, I tried to get you to sext with me. I set you up with some glorious openings. NOTHING!” Kristie raises her voice and Sonnett winces because neighbors. “I had to take care of myself, and it’s just not the same as you,” Kristie lowers her voice but simultaneously becomes whiney. “I want you, baby,” she cups Sonnett’s face, unable to stop herself from being loving, even if she is horny. And annoyed. And maybe a little bit mad. “I love you. And I’ve missed you.” But loving Kristie doesn’t hang around for long. “I need you to fuck me. Do you understand?”

Sonnett nods, swallowing down the lump in her throat, the prospect of getting caught being pushed right out of her head as Kristie sheds her hoodie.

She drops a quick kiss on Sonnett’s cheek before pushing her, more gently this time, back into the mattress. “Good girl,” she smiles a sultry smile and shrugs her long sleeve over her head.

That causes Sonnett to shoot back up to her elbows. “You- uh- woah!” Sonnett breaks into a coughing fit at the sight of Kristie’s breasts, pushed up and barely covered in lacy fabric that allows the pink of her nipples to show through.

“What?” Kristie chuckles without looking up, unbuttoning her jeans and shimmying out of them to reveal the matching bottom half of her black lingerie set

“You uh-” Sonnett clears her throat nervously, “you brought that to camp?”

“For you, baby,” Kristie straddles her, and smirks as Sonnett’s hands graze up and down her bare thighs. It’s been awhile, but that has done absolutely nothing to help her girlfriend keep her hands to herself. “Now show me that you deserve it.” She kisses Sonnett softly and then sits back on her heels to look at her. “I really, really missed you, baby," her bravado all but disappears. 

“I missed you, too,” Sonnett whispers. “I wasn’t trying to be stubborn. It’s just… your sister.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Kristie’s eyes soften, because as much as she would like to believe Sam’s not a problem, her high-strung personality is a problem for Sonnett. Sonnett’s just not ready for that yet, and Kristie can hardly blame her.

The whole conversation feels like it’s verging on killing the mood, and Sonnett’s not about to let that happen. Not when the most beautiful woman she’s ever had her hands on is sitting on top of her looking like _that_. Not with the promise of Kristie’s juices covering her face. “Come back here,” Sonnett fingers grip the back of Kristie’s neck, pulling her into a much deeper kiss this time, exploring Kristie’s mouth with her tongue like she needs to relearn it all. It’s the same way her hands explore every inch of Kristie’s exposed skin, and some that’s not exposed. So light it’s intense, especially after all this time, and Kristie can’t help but jump and jerk as Sonnett identifies all of her most sensitive spots again.

Thumbs pressed into the dimples of her hips.

Hands ghosting over her ass.

Nose running along her jaw.

Teeth scraping her collarbone.

And finally, fingers grazing over the apex of her thighs.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so wet.”

“I told you I missed you, Son,” Kristie whines. “Please.” For someone who was so concerned about getting caught only a few minutes ago, Sonnett is sure content taking her time now, and it’s verging on maddening. It’s hard to balance how much she wants to appreciate and worship Kristie with how much she just _wants_ her.

Sonnett hooks her thumbs inside the band of Kristie’s panties, dragging them partway down, but struggling to get them all the way off. “You know they make crotchless lingerie, babe,” she flops back on the bed, frustrated, as Kristie works out of them and throws them to the side.

Kristie laughs softly as Sonnett pulls her higher, at how quickly she’s gone from hesitant about the whole thing to impatiently eager. “Want this off?” she purrs, reaching around to unhook the clasps of her bra as Sonnett drapes her arms over Kristie’s thighs.

“No, leave it on,” Sonnett reaches up for Kristie’s wrists. “It’s hot. You look super sexy.”

Kristie just shakes her head a little at how strange she thinks it is that her girlfriend would prefer her partially covered. “Are you going to let me get you out of all your clothes?” she smiles down at Sonnett, still holding her wrists and kissing her knuckles.

“Nope. Not yet.”

"Sonny..." But it's too late for Kristie to form much of a protest. As Sonnett noses through her center, her focus shifts from all the reasons why her girlfriend shouldn't remain fully clothed to wondering how she's going to last for more than a minute after all this time. Especially after Sonnett was looking at her like that. And she doesn't stand a chance against that tongue.

But if there's one thing Sonnett knows how to do, it's read her. Every time she's close, Sonnett backs off, using her tongue to slowly bring her down instead of giving Kristie what she's chasing. Sonnett's tongue inside of her is good, but it's not what she needs, not enough, and it leaves Kristie with little choice but to shamelessly grind her clit against her girlfriend's nose, while Sonnett's hands on her hips simultaneously support her and seem to spur her movements on. Or maybe they're just along for the ride, Kristie's hips fucking down into Sonnett's face so wildly now that she's not sure which it is.

"Fuck, baby," Kristie moans, falling forward to support herself on the bed as Sonnett brings her closer all over again. This time, Sonnett doesn't relent, her tongue flicking against Kristie's hard bud at a pace the older woman can't even comprehend. She feels like her entire body is a coiled spring under pressure until Sonnett lets her go and she spills her juices all over the younger woman's face and chest, and dripping off her chin onto her neck. "Fuck," she breathes out again, pussy clenching uncontrollably around nothing as she slides down Sonnett's body, spreading a shimmery trail that will need to be washed off later. She squeezes Sonnett's thigh between her legs to relieve some of the pulsating she still feels. "I missed you. But I _really_ missed that," she pants out, settling into Sonnett's arms. When she's caught her breath, she notices the smug smile on Sonnett's face. It should annoy her in the moment, but when she tastes herself as she tries to kiss it away, she finds herself no longer caring how self-satisfied Sonnett looks. She just wants to taste her girlfriend's sweetness instead of her own. 

But Sonnett seems set on making that difficult. She rolls onto Kristie without breaking the kiss, and before long, Sonnett's tongue is trailing down the valley between her breasts, tasting the salty beads of sweat there, before she continues lower. Her tongue traces Kristie's v-line, down one side and up the other, and Kristie feels a spasm rock her body again.

"Baby, my turn," she whines tugging Sonnett's shirt over her head and tugging the smaller woman back up to her at the same time. She easily flips them, and wastes no time dragging Sonnett's shorts and underwear off, kissing a trail back up the inside of her leg. She's thinner now than the last time she saw her, Kristie notices, the muscles of her thighs more defined and the points of her hips more prominent. Kristie lays a kiss on each one before returning to Sonnett's neck, careful not to leave any marks. "Fingers?" she checks, and Sonnett lets out a hard breath before nodding. But she still tries to make it difficult for Kristie to focus, thumbing at her nipples through the almost-sheer lace, the roughness of the fabric against her sensitive nipples driving her insane. "Sonny. Baby," Kristie struggles through the words, "fuck, I swear you're going to make me come again doing that. I can't concentrate." Sonnett murmurs what sounds like compliance, but soon, her hands are busy, digging into Kristie's ass and drawing her attention away again. It's taking entirely too long like this, Kristie's fingers inadvertently stilling inside her at all the wrong times, but every time Kristie is able to clear her mind enough to think, she can't help but wonder if it's on purpose, Sonnett's small, contented smile giving away her desire to prolong this even though her eyes stay shut. Kristie knows her well, too, and she knows exactly what will send Sonnett over the edge in the most intense way possible. Kristie rolls onto her, spreading Sonnett's legs farther apart, and angling her wrist better. The pressure of her thigh alone gets Sonnett's hips moving into her, but when she leans down and whispers into Sonnett's ear, that's all it takes.

"I want you to come for me, baby."

She smiles as she nibbles on Sonnett's ear, feeling the younger woman's body go momentarily rigid beneath her before her hand is flooded with her girlfriend's climax. 

"Good girl," she continues, breathing into Sonnett's ear, and Kristie is treated to another wave of orgasms that silently wash over Sonnett's body.

*****

“Jesus Christ! Hold on!” Sonnett shouts, pulling on some joggers and drying her hair with a towel on the way out of the bathroom. “What?” she doesn’t even try to hide her annoyance as she opens the door to Kelley. Part of her frustration is because she just wanted a nice, long shower after a _very_ long session with Kristie, and part of her irritation is because she was right – at any point, any one of her clingy teammates could come knocking on her door, and Kelley missed Kristie by a mere half hour. “What?” she repeats. “Why are you looking at me like that?

“Why are you just now showering? Our training ended like 4 hours ago,” Kelley eyes her suspiciously, and it’s not like Sonnett can explain this away as her second shower of the day without drawing more suspicion.

“I passed out when I got back,” Sonnett turns away from the door so Kelley can’t see her as she lies because her face _will_ give it away, and Kelley’s narrowed eyes follow her every move. “What do you want, Kell?”

“Ew!” Kelley slides down in the entryway, leaning back against the door to keep it open. “I missed you, Sonny.”

“You saw me six weeks ago,” Sonnett points out, and she’s proud she knows that even if it’s because of Kristie’s bitching. She certainly isn’t one to keep track of time. She collapses on the still-made, and only clean, bed in her room, praying that the scents of her shampoo and conditioner overpower the smell of sex. “It’s your fault that you don’t come down to Georgia anymore. If you really missed me, you would.”

“We went to visit Kam’s family for Christmas. But whatever, I’m about to see you see you all the time, Sonny! Aren’t you excited?” Sonnett just stares at her. “Tell me you’re excited, Sonnett!”

She can’t help but chuckle at how enthused Kelley is about her trade. “Yes, Kell,” she rolls her eyes, “I’m sooooo excited I get to play with you and train with you everyday and, you know, honestly, I was thinking of just moving into you spare bedroom. Y’all wouldn’t mind, right?”

“What?” Kelley sputters.

Sonnett raises her eyebrows. “I thought you missed me.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, I do,” Kelley backtracks. “But also, I like walking around naked and having sex in places that are not my bedroom and- ”

Sonnett cuts her off with a snort. “Calm down, I was kidding. I have no interest is seeing your bare ass any more than I already have to in locker rooms.”

“Why are you even looking then?”

Sonnett shakes her head, refusing to dignify that with a response, and in no time, they’re back to talking like they always do, about their families, their holidays, and a lot about DC, with Kelley rambling a mile a minute about her favorite joints and already trying to influence where Sonnett looks for a house to rent. Before long, Kelley’s normally perfect posture has slumped against the door, and a few minutes after that, she’s sprawled out on her side, resting her head on her own shoulder.

“Told you the first day of camp has been exhausting,” Sonnett throws a pillow that hits her in the face, and watches with satisfaction as Kelley is both too tired to throw it back and looks markedly more comfortable. “Even you’re tired, beep test queen.”

“I’m old, what’s your excuse?” And for a minute, they laugh at Kelley finally accepting her age enough that she can joke about it. “Hey, Son?” Kelley sits up a little and scrunches her eyebrows together. “I think you lost your training shorts under the bed? Or maybe it’s the vest for your GPS? I don’t know, but you should get it before you flip out in the morning and show up late.”

“Yeah,” Sonnett mumbles, rolling off the bed and onto the floor. It’s dark under the bed, but she can make out the object Kelley’s talking about, but when her fingers wrap around the fabric, she knows it’s not her vest. “Fuck,” she hisses under her breath, dropping Kristie’s panties. Kristie's panties that they couldn't find when Kristie left earlier. Kristie's panties that they assumed were lost in the sheets but were actually thrown under the other bed. Kristie's panties that she swore wouldn't be a big deal, they'd find them later. Yeah, later came all right. Later is now, with Kelley in the room. She scrambles back up to the bed and covers her face with a pillow in embarrassment.

“Get your vest,” Kelley insists from her spot on the floor.

“I’ll get it in the morning when we go to training. Drop it.” Her annoyance is muffled by the pillow.

“You were just on the damn floor. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re not going to remember where it is tomorrow and we’re all going to have to run when you show up late.”

“I’m not gonna be late, Kell,” Sonnett insists, trying to keep her voice even. But the panic in her chest, well, she imagines that’s probably what a heart attack feels like.

“You are.”

“Oh my fucking God. Text me in the morning and remind me where it is.”

“I won’t remember to text you any more than you’ll remember where it is.” Kelley scoots over towards the bed because she can’t stand people not doing what she says and she can’t stand clothes on dirty hotel floors. And, she’s incapable of leaving well enough alone.

The shuffling around on her floor grabs Sonnett’s attention. “Kelley, don’t!” she shouts at the last possible second, but it’s not enough to deter her Type A friend. Kelley’s shriek pierces the silence of the entire floor of the hotel.

“What’s wrong? What the fuck happened?” Within moments, Sam comes rushing over from next door. “Why are you in Sonnett’s room?”

Kelley dives into the bathroom, ignoring Sam, and Sam being the rule-follower that she is, refuses to cross the threshold into Sonnett’s room. Kelley spends two minutes muttering incoherently to herself while she scrubs her hand raw under near-boiling water, and the entire time, Sonnett refuses to even look at Sam, much less respond to her, instead praying that the feather pillow covering her face will somehow suffocate her.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sam asks, still wide-eyed as Kelley pushes her way out into the hall.

“There’s lingerie under Sonnett’s bed. _Used_ lingerie.”

Sam starts gagging. “Oh my God, this is why people should always check under the duvet and under the bed and in all the drawers, and the closet, and the safe when they leave a hotel. They can’t expect hotel staff to check in every nook and cranny. Kelley, are you up-to-date on your Hep vaccinations?” she asks, and without waiting for a response, continues. “I’m going to go down to the front desk and tell them so they can come get it and dispose of it in one of those biowaste containers.”

“Sam,” Sonnett lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“It is. You don’t know who it belongs to. There could be STD germs on it,” she whispers, “and Kelley just touched it.”

“I’ll use a hanger to pick it up and throw it away. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. How are you not freaking out?”

“There’s a reason they call you Panic Petunia, and not me,” Sonnett tosses the pillow aside and pinches the bridge of her nose. “The two of you have all the freakouts covered for me, thanks.”

“Well I’m still going down to the front desk to tell them to suggest to the housekeeping staff that they at least check under the beds from now on.”

Sonnett lets out a groan when Sam leaves, but Kelley stands where she is, arms folded across her chest. “Why _are_ you not freaking out?” she asks warily.

“I guess cause I didn’t touch it?” she lies, hoping that from her angle on the floor, Kelley couldn’t see that she fully grabbed the panties.

“No. No, you should still be freaking out. You’re a germaphobe. You should be demanding another room right now. You should be demanding that someone comes in here with a blacklight and- ”

“Kell, will you just drop it. Please.”

“No.” Kelley steps into the room and lets the door shut behind her.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Sonnett warns her.

“Oh, fuck off. We train in closer quarters than this. Why are you not freaked out?”

“I don’t know. Would you like me to scream?”

Kelley studies her for another minute before almost sitting down on the edge of the bed closest to her. Then she thinks better of that decision and chooses the desk chair instead. She uses her toe to push herself back and forth as she taps on her chin. “Sonnett,” she squints at her friend. “Are they… are they yours?”

Sonnett cackles. “Kelley. You think I brought lingerie to camp for myself? To do what in? And seriously. Can you even picture me in that?”

“I don’t _want_ to picture you in those.” Kelley continues to spin in the chair, deep in thought, and Sonnett knows it’s just a matter of time until she recovers from her shock and puts her Stanford education to use; she just doesn’t know what to do to stop it or how to lie her way out of it. “Sonnett…” Kelley’s dramatic pause makes Sonnett want to die all over again. “You saw what was under the bed. You should have freaked out. You didn’t. You climbed back onto the bed and continued to talk to me like nothing.” Sonnett lets out a long, annoyed breath and covers her face with the pillow again. “Sonnett! Whose panties are they?”

“How should I know?” Sonnett screeches back at her. Kelley peels the pillow off Sonnett’s face to reveal bright red skin below. “You’re not supposed to be in my room, Kelley,” she says weakly.

“Who are you fucking?” Kelley demands to know, uninterested in rules in the moment.

“Oh my God.”

“Who are you fucking?

“Can you drop it? Please?” Sonnett begs.

“No. Who is important enough for you to break the rules and possibly get kicked out of camp?”

“I’m not getting kicked out of camp,” Sonnett rolls over to face the wall.

“You are if you get caught. It’s gotta be someone who’s important to you. Important enough that you’d risk not playing in these friendlies. You’re not risking your career for just sex. You like soccer more than sex.”

“How would you even know that? What are you doing Kell?” Sonnett looks up to find Kelley rummaging through her drawers and putting socks on her hands.

“I want to know what size these are,” she says seriously, pinching Kristie’s panties between her thumb and index finger and holding them as far away as her arm allows, before stretching them out and taking a good look.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Sonnett mutters, staring at the ceiling, and for the third time in less than ten minutes, she finds herself wishing the bed could just swallow her up.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you would just tell me who you’re fucking,” Kelley smirks, turning the panties around to study the back, as if knowing it’s a thong will help with her detective work. “Oh, I’m sorry. Making love. If you would just tell me who you’re making love with, we could put an end to it.”

“You really can fuck off, you know.”

“Did you and Lindsey finally figure your shit out? She’s gotta be the only one here that’s worth it to you.”

“Oh my God. Seriously?”

“I don’t think that ship sailed,” Kelley points out. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been avoiding her. Throw everyone off the scent.”

“That ship sunk like the fucking Titanic.”

“Well who the fuck is it, Son? You can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Dinnertime, Kell.” Sonnett gets up and throws a hoodie on. “You coming?

Kelley considers staying for a moment, before she decides more detecting can be done in the dining room than in Sonnett’s empty room, and she follows her young counterpart downstairs. “This conversation isn’t over.”

*****

“Is it Rose? It’s Rose, isn’t it? When did this happen?”

Sonnett stands in her doorway in her pajamas, blocking Kelley from entering again. “Why do you think it’s Rose?” she asks, externally annoyed, but internally amused by the ridiculous assumption.

“You were talking to her a lot at dinner. She likes thongs. Totally possible.”

“She’s at my table. And she’s one of my best friends. Who’d you want me to talk to?”

“They say you should fall in love with your best friend. Makes sense then it could be Rose,” Kelley shrugs.

Sonnett rolls her eyes. “It’s not Rose. That’s two guesses. You can have one more, and then we’re done with this game.”

“This seems unfair,” Kelley pouts. “You didn’t tell me I only got three guesses before we began. It’s like changing the rules.”

“Ok, listen,” Sonnett starts, “three guesses is standard, you should know that. And I could seriously just not talk to you about this. The fact that you’re getting _any_ guesses is huge. So one more guess or we’re done, I don’t care.”

“Kristie.”

Sonnett laughs because it’s the best way she knows to deflect. She didn’t think Kristie would be Kelley’s final guess. Then again, she doesn’t really know _who_ she thought would be Kelley’s final guess. She didn’t really think – at all – before she began this stupid game. Not thinking before jumping into something seems to be a common refrain in her life, it just usually doesn't work out this poorly. “Are you going to guess Sam next?”

“What? No. Sam’s straight. And married. Why would I guess Sam?”

“Because you’re just guessing my whole table. You know I didn’t pick where I eat, right?”

“I wasn’t guessing your table. I was guessing the not-straight people.”

“You didn’t guess Tierna.”

“Not single,” Kelley argues. “And she’s far too young for you.”

“Maybe I like them young,” Sonnett chews on her lip, trying to keep the nerves at bay. “You didn’t guess Alyssa.”

“You’re dumb.”

“And you’re too old to be this immature,” Sonnett snaps back, starting to close the door in Kelley’s face. “She’s gay. And single. Meets your qualifications. Think about it, Kell. I _am_ adorable. Irresistible, some might say.”

“Wait!” she shouts, and Sonnett ignores her, to the satisfying click of her door closing. But Kelley’s loud voice is audible through the thick door. “You didn’t answer me!”

“Night, Kell!” Sonnett shouts back.

“That’s not a no. You know that, right? That’s not a no!”

*****

Sonnett chuckles to herself as she sits down on her bed to text Kristie. She saved the older Mewis in her phone as The Other Mewis a long time ago because it pissed Kristie off and she’s never bothered to change it even though she knows Kristie hates it.

 **Sonnett** : bolo squirrel

 **The Other Mewis** : what?

 **Sonnett** : be on the lookout for Kelley

 **The Other Mewis** : I know what bolo means, Sonnett. And who you’re talking about. WHY ARE YOU TALKING IN CODE?

 **Sonnett** : in case Sam ever finds your phone?

 **The Other Mewis** : is this why you wouldn’t sext with me?

 **Sonnett** : see, you need to delete that text now

 **The Other Mewis** : what’s up with Kelley? Is she pissed at me?

 **Sonnett** : she doesn’t know it’s you, I didn’t tell her, but she thinks she’s a damn detective. Seriously, Kris, how did you even keep a straight face when Sam was telling the story at dinner? I wanted to die. Again.

 **The Other Mewis** : years of hiding things from her I guess. Might as well tell Kelley, I’m coming to visit you in DC. She’s going to see me at your games.

 **Sonnett** : gonna let her stew on it for a little while. If you see me flirting with Alyssa, it’s just to throw Kelley off. Don’t get jealous.

 **The Other Mewis** : Lyssa will kill you before I even have the chance to get jealous. Good luck, babe.

 **Sonnett** : night

 **The Other Mewis** : no “night!” I’ll be by in a couple hours for my found item. And to show you how sorry I am about Kelley and my sister. You can tell me goodnight in person.

Sonnett falls backwards on her bed and rubs her eyes. This is crazy. She doesn’t really think she’s going to get caught – if she did, she wouldn’t risk it – that’s not the crazy part. When the whole thing happened, she was so mad that she was already prepared to tell Kristie that sexy time during camp was off the table. But then she saw her at dinner, and Kelley’s yelling and Sam’s freakout seemed trivial all of a sudden. Keeping this quiet from a team that doesn’t do quiet is insane, and she knows that won’t last forever. Kristie wanting her, loving her, is still hard to believe. It’s all just… crazy; she can’t think of a better word to describe what being in love is doing to her. She rests her head on her hands and shuts her eyes, determined to get at least a little sleep before her girlfriend comes to wear her out again.

*****

A soft knock on her door stirs her from a good dream. She feels rested, like she’s slept at least 8 hours, but one glance at the clock on the nightstand reminds her it’s only been an hour and a half. “Hey, baby,” she pulls Kristie out of the hallway and kisses her slowly, softly, full of love, not want.

“What was that for?” Kristie beams at her, noticing the difference in the kiss, and any remaining fear of Sonnett being pissed about the incident with Kelley and Sam melts away.

“No reason. Just want you to know that I’m the luckiest girl here.” She takes Kristie’s hand a lead her to bed. “Set an alarm for like 5am and spend the night with me. Please?” Kristie hesitates, fully aware that neither of them can get away with this the same way some of their other teammates might be able to. "Come on, baby," Sonnett pleads. "Look." She clicks in her phone until she gets to Kristie's contact. "I fixed it."

**My Mewis**


	2. In Due Time (Emily + Lindsey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you wait too long to come to terms with your feelings?

Her laugh is already carrying down the hall when Lindsey steps out of the elevator. She doesn’t have to know what room she’s in to find her; she could follow that laugh anywhere, to the ends of the Earth if she had to. More like if someone would let her embark on that path. That laugh could help her find her way home in the thickest of fogs. That laugh _is_ home. Well, it’s actually more a cackle and less a laugh. It’s harsh and loud and over the top and Lindsey loves it because it’s her laugh when she’s genuinely happy. She loves everything about it. It’s like her own song, a melody played especially for her, drifting through time and space until it lands on her ear. It’s how she _knows_. Knows that Sonnett is it. _The_ _one_ , and she doesn’t care how stupid that would sound spoken aloud, because what matters is that it sounds right in her heart. She should have known before. She _did_ know before. But knowing is hard sometimes, and Lindsey’s not good with hard. There’s something harder than knowing though: an insurmountable distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder; Lindsey’s heard that over and over, but it always sounded like some stupid cliché that should have stayed on a page of poetry; she never believed it until she was separated from Sonnett. Now, she can only hope that what she has to offer is enough. That now isn’t too late. That Sonnett still knows, deep down, that somewhere beneath the love bubbling in her heart for another, her love for Lindsey is the magma that makes the plates move. Slow, mostly steady, ever-present.

But it’s harder than she expected, when she sees her the first time, hanging out in the middle of the hallway, playing with Rose with one of those fifty cent bouncy balls from a vending machine. It’s hard because it brings back months upon months of her own pain, her internal battle. It’s hard because she wants to cry – happy tears, but the stinging behind her eyes is the same – when she turns the corner and sees her. It’s hard because she looks _good_ , and more importantly happy, and Lindsey has to deal with the knowledge that Sonny found that happiness without her. Lindsey couldn’t help guide her to it, but somehow, in their time apart, whether it was on her own or with another, she came back around, back to herself. Someone else stepped in where Lindsey failed. Filled the role that was supposed to be hers. Filled it better than she could, even. Someone else is the one she looks at and smiles that soft Sonny smile for. Someone else consumes her thoughts when she’s away. Someone else holds her once-fragile heart in their hands. Lindsey’s done a great job of pretending she’s fine, but Sonnett looks like she _actually_ is.

So she can’t say what she wants, not this afternoon, anyway. Can’t pull her away from her stupid game. Can’t run over to Sonnett and hug her in a way that will tell her what’s in her heart so she’ll just _know_ without the words. Can’t shout it from the rooftops, or even in the corridor of the hotel they’re occupying. She can’t do any of the things she wants – no needs – to do, so she does the next best thing, and walks down to the end of the hallway towards them. Towards her. The woman that wormed her way into her heart, burrowed deep, and whose absence left a hole that no one else can fill.

And there’s something there, Lindsey notices when she’s finally closer, a little piece of what they had that Sonnett’s still hanging onto. She’s sure of that. It’s in the way Sonnett’s eyes still sparkle the same way they used to, the way they only ever have for her. The nervous little wave where she barely picks her hand up from where it’s hanging by her side. Sonnett’s face tells her she’s not crazy, but it also doesn’t tell her that what’s left is enough.

What hurts the most is that she can’t hug her. That might be the worst pain Lindsey’s ever experienced. Worse than her knee surgery, than every breakup, than not seeing her all this time. Seeing her and not touching her is unbearable. “ ‘Sup, loser?” Rose sticks out an elbow because she does expect some sort of greeting. “So nice of you to join us this time. Beep test scare you off last camp? Or did you want your mommy’s turkey?”

Lindsey can’t help but grin, and can’t hold back the middle finger that immediately follows.

It’s Sonnett who’s serious. “I’m glad you’re ok,” she says softly, standing where she is, a bit farther away from Lindsey.

And she’s said it on the phone and in text messages a dozen times, because she _was_ scared. They both were. Even after she felt better, there were lingering doubts. The EKG only took a few minutes, but they were the most stressful of her life, and she swore if she failed it, she was going to blame it on a broken heart, not COVID. Because amongst all of her knowing – what she wants, that she’s in love, that she’s found her person – she also knows that Sonnett has a girlfriend who she loves very much. And that makes Lindsey the queen of the worst timing ever. “All right, how do I win this game?” she asks, grabbing the ball mid-air as Rose aimlessly bounces it on the floor. “I came back to kick ass. At everything.” With that, Sonnett’s off explaining the point system of the cups spread down the hallway and the rules of the game they made up, and Lindsey forces herself to focus on that, because there’s nothing else she can focus on right now. Nothing else that’s safe to focus on because she can’t focus on _her_ , not with Rose there, at least.

* * *

“Sonny, can I talk to you?”

Sonnett turns away from Jae to look up at Lindsey, looming larger than life above her. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hotel hallway, she still looks gorgeous, and Sonnett hates that for herself. Hates how much she wants to give in. To get up and go sit somewhere with Lindsey alone – because she knows that’s what Lindsey means – and _really_ talk. But she reminds herself that there’s just not much more to say at this point, is there? There’s one thing that can be said for distance: your heart heals when there’s not someone there unintentionally, unknowingly, picking at the open wound every day. She nods across the hallway to the open spot between Sam’s and Pinoe’s rooms.

Lindsey lets out a huff and slides down the wall, forced to accept that this narrow hallway full of their teammates, spaced out cattycorner to each other, is as good as it’s going to get right now. Sonnett hasn’t been avoiding her, per say, but she certainly hasn’t made an effort to really spend time with Lindsey, at least not without Rose by her side, and Lindsey has to wonder if it’s purposeful. It feels purposeful, how inseparable those two are now. And this feels even worse than their FaceTimes fading. She tries to engage in the conversation, tries to keep up, laughs when everyone else does, but she’s not here in this hallway 6 feet away from Sonnett.

She’s back in Portland, head in Sonnett’s lap, drifting off to the feeling of blunt nails on her scalp.

She’s on the team bus last March, her hand in Sonnett’s, silently thanking the universe for that traffic that makes the drive from Dallas to Frisco longer than half an hour.

She’s under three blankets in Denver, alone and scared, because her lungs are not just her actual life, they’re her metaphorical life (and that sometimes seems more important), and Sonnett’s face fills the small screen of her phone. She’s equally scared, Lindsey knows, but she hides it better, and she makes Lindsey laugh until the coughing fits take over, then she apologizes only to do it all over again when the hacking subsides. She tells Lindsey that laughter, and therefore coughing, are good for her, the only workout her lungs are going to get at the moment. She swears she’s single-handedly keeping Lindsey out of the hospital even though she’s a million miles away in camp. Where Lindsey’s supposed to be.

She’s in all the could have and should have moments over the years. The almosts and the never dids, and the regret that wasn’t quite enough to overpower the fear. Unit now.

And every once in a while, she’s here, when Sonnett’s laugh tears her out of her own head and forces her back to the harsh reality that seems to be her present. And maybe her future.

But she’s not where she needs to be, alone somewhere with Sonnett, having the conversation she’s rehearsed over and over.

* * *

A tap on Sonnett’s shoulder pulls her away from her conversation at breakfast with Kristie. She turns around to find Lindsey staring down at her again, and it’s the same request, the one she’s been trying to avoid for days now because she can think of a lot of things that seem easier than talking to Lindsey. “Sure,” she mumbles, but doesn’t move, not until the insistence in Lindsey’s eyes chip away at her defenses just enough, and she shoves her chair back and tosses the rest of her breakfast in the trash. “Where?” Sonnett pushes, following her down a hallway. “Can’t go to your room.” For once, maybe the first time in her entire life, she’s happy to have some rules in place, rules that seem to complicate things for Lindsey, but are the last straw Sonnett can grasp onto in a futile attempt to keep her head above water and to keep her promise to her girlfriend.

“Seriously? You want to follow rules now?” Lindsey turns around and the annoyance is all over her face. “You snuck out during the fucking World Cup, Sonnett.” Sonnett just shrugs at her, and Lindsey knows it’s a losing battle. “Fine. Take a walk with me?”

“A walk where?” We’re not allowed to leave and it’s not like there’s a nice forest to hike through here like there was in the…” she cuts herself off, knowing that missing camp and a game is probably still very raw for Lindsey.

“I don’t know, Sonnett. To the damn field, I don’t care,” Lindsey snaps, and Sonnett just squints at her, studying her friend, unable to fully understand where her obvious frustrations stem from.

She doesn’t know yet.

Doesn’t know that Lindsey’s changed her mind.

That the way Sonnett has been at camp – whether purposeful or not – is breaking her heart.

That she’s been wrestling with this for months. Ok, years. But more intensely, for months.

That deep down, she is afraid it’s too late, because it probably _is_ too late, and that scares her even more.

That she’s been surviving on fleeting moments this past week. A small smile on the training pitch, incidental contact, the chance to provide Sonnett with an outlet pass that gets her away from pressure. Walking side by side, even if Rose is right there in lockstep with them. Anything. Anything is better than nothing.

“Where’s your friend?” Sonnett asks in a biting tone as she sits on the nearest bench.

“Goddamnit, Em. Why do you have to be like this?” And Sonnett just stares back at her in silence. It seems like all she does anymore, refusing to open up, refusing to let Lindsey back in, refusing to give her a glimpse into her soul. “What’d you want me to do? You weren’t there anymore.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that, Linds?”

Lindsey sighs because she knows. Knows it’s both unfair and that it’s life. That Sonnett should be over it by now and also may never be. And why should she be? But she’s getting to play with Kelley out of it. She had to turn her life upside down, had to wait day after agonizing day for the phone call, but it’s not all bad. It’s not the worst thing ever, not anymore at least. Sonnett busted her ass to do what she needed to do to get herself out of a situation she didn’t want to be in, and for once, Lindsey just wants her to let it go.

“You called her your best friend. You hardly know her,” she continues, her voice smaller now, hurt supplanting the anger from just a few seconds ago. “It’s supposed to be me. You promised. You said it didn’t matter if we weren’t playing together anymore. You said forever.”

All this does is make things harder, this extra layer of hurt. Of betrayal. As if Lindsey didn’t already have enough to wade through.

“It was just a thing I said, Dasani. You know how it is in interviews. You exaggerate. You give them what they want. It’s not like I meant she’s my _actual_ best friend.”

“Whatever,” Emily turns away from her. “What are we doing out here? What do you want to talk about?”

In the distance, she sees Rose headed down the trail towards them, occasionally spinning a ball on her finger, and Lindsey knows now’s not the time. “Nothing,” she mumbles.

“Ok. Great,” Emily says, and she sounds relieved, but her eyes say it’s neither ok nor great, and Lindsey knows her own eyes mirror that exact same sentiment.

* * *

“Come help me pack up my apartment?” Lindsey spins around at the sound of Emily’s voice, so timid and unsure, and it pains her that her best friend in the entire would be hesitant to ask her for help. Lindsey was unaware until this moment that the thought of wrapping dishes and packing boxes could ever bring her joy, but with every opportunity she’s had to talk to Sonnett alone interrupted – by Rose on the field, by Jane on the golf course, by Sophia in the hot tub, by Kelley when she finally snuck Emily into a secluded corner for coffee – packing Sonnett’s apartment seems like a glorious way to spend their last afternoon off. “I shipped everything when I thought… you know…and then… I just need to put it all back and ship it to DC.”

“Did you already find a place?” Lindsey asks, getting up, a sure signal that her non-answer is a yes. 

“Nope, I’m shipping it to Kelley’s. She has a garage.”

“Does Kelley know this?”

“Nope,” Sonnett grins, and Lindsey can’t help but laugh at the way her friend plays with fire with it comes to Kelley.

“When?”

“Um, I was thinking now, but it doesn’t have to be now. It can be whenever, doesn’t matter,” Sonnett rubs the back of her neck nervously.

But now is good for Lindsey, this opportunity to be with Sonnett away from everyone, where they can talk, hopefully reconnect.

*****

“Wow, you unpacked a lot,” Lindsey comments as she mills about what was supposed to be Emily’s apartment near Exploria. She’s seen it before, on Facetime, but it looks different in person, like she really did try to make it a home, not just a place to sleep. And the picture of them is still there, right where she left it when she went home to Georgia, thinking she’d be back soon, not end up across the Atlantic.

Sonnett notices her staring at it, and it seems to make her uncomfortable. “Boxes are in the spare bedroom,” she says, already heading away, and Lindsey follows her.

“Why’d you get a second bedroom?”

“Dunno,” Sonnett uses the occasion of gathering packing supplies to not make eye contact with her. “Just… in case you- you- you maybe wanted to stay here when the Torns played in Orlando.”

“Sonny,” Lindsey says softly.

“Or Rose, or Kelley, or Sam. Whoever.” She so clearly doesn't want to talk about it, but that's never stopped Lindsey.

“Well, I don’t know about them, but I would have just slept in your bed with you. You didn’t need a second bedroom,” Lindsey hugs her behind.

Sonnett cringes, “Yeah. I did.”

She leaves it at that, but Lindsey knows what she means, and she hates it. “It’s just us. It’s how we are. She can’t- ”

“Yes. She can,” Sonnett counters, and she says it definitively, definitively enough that there’s a little piece of Lindsey that’s glad last season didn’t go as planned. That she didn’t visit. That they didn’t have to have that conversation. Didn’t have to sleep in separate beds when they’d never had to before. Because why should things have needed to be any different between them? Why should their friendship have had to change? She knows it would have resulted in countless fights. Neither one had shied away from them in the past. “Are you here to help, or not?” Sonnett’s already on edge. “The moving company said if I stacked all the boxes by the door, they’d load them and the furniture. I just want to get this done and go back.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Kitchen or closet?” Lindsey asks.

“Don’t trust you with my dishes. Closet, please.”

Packing up Sonnett’s clothing is a trip down memory lane for Lindsey. It’s not really a lot of Sonnett’s favorites – those she kept with her when she went back home – but it’s full of memories nonetheless.

The grungy orange adidas shirt, so faded it’s almost yellow, that she had to drag Sonnett out of when she had the flu. She tried to hide that she was sick from everyone for two days, so insistent on never needing help from anyone. After she wouldn’t answer calls or texts, Lindsey found her under every blanket she owned, shivering and sweaty, and reeking of sickness. So she took care of her best friend. It didn’t even occur to her that she might catch it too (she didn’t). She doesn’t know why Sonnett kept that shirt (she’s glad she did). Watching over Sonnett for the next four days was actually some of her favorite days ever. She went into this mode she’d never been in, completely dedicated to doing anything any everything to make her feel better. She didn’t even have time to worry. Toast. Pedialyte. Sponge bath. Clean clothes. Nap. Soup. Cuddles. Force her out on her balcony for some vitamin D. Support her into a semi-seated position on the chaise lounge. Brush her hair. Hold her til she’s asleep. Rub the essential oils Kelley overnighted on her back and the bottoms of her feet – she had to wait because Sonnett complained they smelled. Clean up a never-ending pile of Kleenex. Dishes. Shower. Change into some of Sonnett’s clothes. Back to bed to hold her until the morning when she would do it all over. They hardly spoke; Sonnett’s throat was too raw. No TV or music because of her headache. Just them in this perfect domestic silence where Lindsey finally felt like she could repay Sonnett for always taking care of her.

There are her Sydney FC shorts, one of the few articles of clothing she wouldn’t let Lindsey steal, so Lindsey resorted to wearing them when she’d stay over, if Sonnett didn’t get them on first. She knows how hard it was for Sonnett to take the risk and go. She also knows how much it helped her. It got her here.

There are tees Lindsey will never forget because they are from championships they won together. But there are also items that are more mundane. The outfit Sonnett wore the last time they had avocado toast in Portland, when they didn’t know it was the last time. The flannel she had on when they got tattoos. The jacket she wore at the bar when she almost kissed Lindsey in the back corner, almost too drunk to stop herself, but not quite drunk enough to let herself get all the way lost. And it was probably for the best – Lindsey wasn’t ready then, not like she is now. But it’s a reminder that Sonnett always, always holds something back. Even when she allows herself to slip into a vulnerable space, she’s always in control, can reign it back in, can snap back to that learned place of what’s acceptable and what’s not and close herself off again and Lindsey hates it, but she gets it.

“Umm… you’re not done yet?”

Lindsey spins around, reminded of where she is. So maybe it’s been slow going, stopping to relive all the memories of moments, big and small, clutching Sonnett’s clothes close to her, breathing in her scent. It’s been so long, so long since they’ve seen each other, so long since they’ve hugged. All the FaceTimes in the world couldn’t give her that comfort back.

“No, I- ” and that’s when the tears finally spill over. Like a dam, standing strong but finally overtaken, Lindsey can’t hold them back.

“What’s wrong?” Sonnett doesn’t even hesitate to go to the younger woman’s side, wrap her in a hug, let her bury her tear-stained face into her neck. “Linds, what is it?”

“I miss you, Dasani.”

Sonnett snorts a little. “I missed you, too, fool.”

“No,” Lindsey pulls back with a sniffle and looks at her. “I _miss_ you. Like still do. I miss the way things were before… I miss what we had when we almost had us.”

“What does that even mean?”

She decides to go with a joke. “How does one come out of the closet?” Lindsey asks, because in all fairness, she’s never told Sonnett that she might be anything other than straight. The one – and only – time that Sonnett asked her, years ago, she said as much. She’s was in denial then, a denial that carried over for a long time, because what’s the difference between best friend love and _love_ love? Nothing, Lindsey realized. Which was kind of the point, and also why it was hard for her to figure things out.

It doesn’t land. “What?”

“Um… Sonnett, I don’t know how to say this…”

“Say what, Lindsey?”

“That I… you know…”

“I don’t know.” Sonnett’s voice becomes icier the longer this standoff between them continues.

“Do you remember when you almost kissed me?” Lindsey asks, and she doesn’t wait for an answer because she knows Sonnett will deny it, will claim she was drunk and doesn’t remember or drunk and too flirty, but she’s not going to give Lindsey the simple answer that she’s looking for. “I wanted you to kiss me. I want you to kiss me now.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She lets out a half laugh. If it sounds almost cruel, it’s only to hide her own hurt.

“I’m not.”

“Well you should be. I have a girlfriend. You _know_ I have a girlfriend.”

And she can see Sonnett’s lip quivering. Can see the tears welling up in her eyes, the way her face contorts as she tries to stop it all. “Is she it for you, Sonny?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks bitterly, but she knows exactly what it means and where this conversation is going.

“Is she _it_? Is she who you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

“I don’t have to know that right now.”

“But you do know,” Lindsey presses. “Tell me you’re not my soulmate. Tell me I’m not yours. Tell me we aren’t supposed to spend our lives together.” Sonnett refuses to meet her eyes. “Look at me and tell me.”

“I love her, Lindsey.”

“That’s not what I asked. Tell me that you’re not settling with her. Tell me that you don’t still love me.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sonnett pleads with her to stop.

“Because it took me realizing I lost you to know that- ”

“Stop!” Sonnett shouts at her. “Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to- ”

“We’re soulmates,” Lindsey cuts in.

“Yeah. Ok,” Sonnett laughs again, trying so hard to dismiss Lindsey’s words. “Maybe we were once. Maybe I would have believed that a long time ago. But you had so many fucking chances to figure this out. Years. Fucking years that I waited for you to figure it out and- ”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey pleads with Sonnett to understand.

“I don’t care how sorry you are. I love her. She’s good to me. She’s kind. She doesn’t make me doubt how she feels. Never strung me along. I’m not hurting her. Not for you.”

Those words stab Lindsey straight through her heart. “Sonny…”

“Get out.”

“No, Sonnett just listen to me. I- ”

“Get out, Lindsey! I can pack by myself. I don’t need this bullshit. Seriously, fuck you. Fuck you for being so selfish. Fuck you for trying to ruin my relationship. Fuck you for ruining my life. Just go!” she screams, tears streaming down her red face. “Go away. Leave me alone!”

“Don’t do this,” Lindsey cries.

“ _You_ did this. You don’t do this. I can’t love you anymore. I moved on. She’s not you, but man, she’s not gonna hurt me.”

So Lindsey moves to the door, because she’s left with no choice. Sonnett's crying harder than she’s ever seen her cry before, yelling like she’s never yelled. On the verge of saying things she can’t take back.

“I’ll Venmo you for your Uber,” she says weakly. “Just… don’t talk to me for awhile.”

Lindsey’s never been good at listening to anyone though. Hand on the doorknob, she turns back around. “You always said you wanted to be great. You always told me to be great. Just because you love her doesn’t mean she’s your person. Don’t settle for good when we can be great, Son.”

Lindsey knocks softly on Sonnett’s door, shifting her weight uneasily. It takes a long time, too long, perhaps, for Sonnett to open the door, and Lindsey can’t shake the vision from her mind, of Sonnett on the other side, so close, but with that physical barrier protecting her, staring at Lindsey through the peep hole. That familiar click is the only reason she’s able to breathe again. But Sonnett standing there, arm resting against the doorframe like she’s blocking it, and once again staring coldly, doesn’t give her much hope. They’ve hardly said two words to each other since Lindsey walked out of Sonnett’s apartment, and both were on the field. So was the only eye contact that’ve made, so Lindsey supposes this is something. And they do still have to be teammates. She’ll see Sonnett in less than a month, so at least if this fails, she can’t just cut Lindsey out of her life completely. In the meantime though, Lindsey has no plans to stop trying, and no compass to tell her that maybe trying is unfair.

“I picked up your flight info when I was downstairs getting mine,” she says with a half-smile as she hands Sonnett some papers.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to.”

“Yeah… yeah,” Lindsey sighs and looks down, scuffing the toe of her shoe on the rough hotel carpet. She hates this silence that keeps happening between them. It’s not the silence they fell into without thinking every time Sonnett came to her place. That was easy. Comfortable. This is heavy, so heavy it makes breathing hard. This is her failure to know what to say anymore. “Ok then. I guess… have a good flight home and I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

“Linessi?” Sonnett’s voice cracks.

“Yeah?” she whips around trying not to be too hopeful.

“Thanks. For helping me the other day. Sorry I got- I got so upset. It’s just hard, you know? I couldn’t deal with you, too.”

She knows. She knows all too well. But right now, she just wishes Sonnett would look through the papers in her hand and put her out of her misery, because waiting, hoping, wondering, it’s worse than being told no again. “Bye, Son.”

Lindsey’s halfway down the hall when she hears feet pounding on the carpet. “Wait! Lindsey, wait!” Sonnett grabs her by the shoulder. “Why are there two flights?”

“I just- I want you to choose me,” she says bluntly, because there’s no point anymore. “I know you care about her, and I know you hate me and don’t trust me and I don’t blame you. But Dasani, I _know_. I’m sorry it wasn’t on your time. I’m sorry for all those years I wasted and that I hurt you. I’m sorry I can’t fix it. But I know now. So it’s in your hands.” Literally, Lindsey realizes as she bites her chapped lip. “Go home to her or come to Denver with me, nothing’s going to change how I feel. You’re still my best friend and I’ll still love you. I get it if it’s my turn to wait and I will. I just wanted you to have a choice. Even after you did kick me out,” she pushes Sonnett’s arm lightly before turning and walking off. She can't stay any longer, not if it means watching Sonnett tell her no again.

* * *

By the time she wakes up the next morning and casually asks around at breakfast, Sonnett’s gone. Of course she’s gone. She was always going to be gone. Lindsey knew this deep down, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Doesn’t mean that the cut is any shallower or that it hurts any less. And now she’s stuck at this hotel for another two hours before her shuttle to the airport.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rose kicks her chair.

“Nothing.”

“Sonnett, huh?” Rose sits down next to her, uninvited, and Lindsey glares at her. A third of the team is gone. She just wanted some peace and quiet. “You kept your foot on her heart for years, Lindsey, I don’t know what you expected,” she says without any sympathy.

“I don’t need this from you, Rose. Not now.”

“No. You do. Now. Because she knows you’re her damn soulmate, and she’s going to give in and come back to you eventually because there’s no other way this goes, and you need to be ready. Not with him because you don’t know how to be alone. Not all hesitant again because you’re sooo afraid of ruining your friendship,” Rose rolls her eyes. “You need to have your shit together by the time she works hers out. If that’s tomorrow or a year from now or in a damn decade for all I care, Lindsey, you owe that to her.”

“I am ready. I have my shit together.”

“Sure, you say that now, but I mean it. If you have to wait, the same way you made her wait, are you capable of doing that? Because she waited years for you to love her back. _Years_. She didn’t waiver in her feelings for you for so long, and no offense, because you know I love you, but I don’t think you can do it. I don’t think you can do for her what she did for you for as long as she did.”

*****

Lindsey drags her feet as she heads to her gate, trying to dodge small children weaving around and crying about having to leave Disney World. She’s not a big fan of flying alone, but today, all she feels is relief that Mal is going back to Atlanta and Soph is going back to Portland. She doesn’t think she could handle either of their chipper moods on the four-hour flight. Sonnett not being there weighs heavily on her; Rose’s words weigh even heavier. One of her closest friends in the world doesn’t seem to have faith that she loves Sonnett enough to wait, and it makes Lindsey question herself. It’s possible someone knows her better. Rose seems to know everything. Sonnett’s always been the one to pick her up when she’s doubted herself, to make her believe, but this, the time when she needs her the most, is the one time Sonnett can’t be there for her. She so stuck in her own head that she almost misses that familiar blonde bun sitting at her gate.

“Sonny,” she whispers, feeling on the verge of tears all over again. “You’re here. You’re really here. I thought you were going back to Georgia. You left so early.” All of her words come out in a rush the same way her feelings threaten to.

Sonnett moves her duffle bag out of the seat beside her so Lindsey can sit down. “I am going back. But I needed to talk to you first, so I gave up my seat to someone on standby and I’m booked on another flight in a coupla hours.”

Lindsey waits, as patiently as she can save for her heel tapping uncontrollably, for Sonnett to explain what was so important she rebooked her flight.

“Did you mean it? Do you really think we’re soulmates?”

Lindsey’s throat feels like it’s closing off as she nods resolutely.

“Because I can’t- I can’t go break up with her if this- if I’m just a fling for you. If you’re experimenting. If you _think_ this is what you want. And I know that’s not fair, but I need you to be sure, and thinking I’m what you want or being afraid to lose me? That isn’t good enough. You can’t have any doubts, and if you do, we just need to wait a little longer.”

Lindsey doesn’t hesitate. “I _am_ sure. Sonny, I’ve knowns since the second week of practice. I was walking out of Providence Park crying because adjusting to being back in the States, but being alone was so hard, and you were sitting in your car in the lot crying, too. Remember how you wouldn’t even tell me why for weeks? Anyway, I saw you and I knew our tear-stained faces matched. Our bloodshot eyes. The mascara we both put on for the headshots that day smeared on our faces. You were a mirror image of me – crying for a different reason - but still the same. You saw me and you wiped your tears and you forced me to be your friend so I wouldn't feel so alone. I knew it when you came to visit me in Denver and you made breakfast for me. You didn’t even have to look through my cabinets and drawers to find anything, not once. I asked you to make coffee, and I was kinda kidding. How’d you know the mugs were in the cabinet to the left of my sink, Son? You just knew where everything was like you’d been there before. Like you belonged there. I knew when I fell asleep in your lap before I even _knew_ you. You brought the real me out of my shell. I hated people touching me before you.”

Sonnett snorts out a little laugh, as if Lindsey, the touchiest person she knows, could hate being touched.

“I’m serious, Son. You changed me. That first time I fell asleep with you on your couch, I know it was nothing to you, but it changed my life. It was a peace I had never known. And I haven’t known it since you left.”

“Lindsey, that night was so early on…” Sonnett’s voice trails off. “You knew…” And Sonnett finally gets it in this moment, in a bustling airport full of loud people and loud flight announcements. This had to have been so hard for Lindsey, to feel what she felt for so long and not know if she could act on it. Sonnett wasn’t the only one carrying around that painful burden all those years, and this new revelation breaks her heart, because she would never in a million years wish that hurt on Lindsey. She can’t help but feel for her now, because she does love her – still – in a way she could never love another. And no matter what she does, someone who doesn't deserve it is going to get hurt.

“Before you? Yeah, maybe.”

“Linds, I didn’t know til you got the tattoo. I mean, I had a crush on you before that, but it wasn't like, serious.”

“The tattoo? That’s dumb.”

“It is dumb. It’s a dumb tattoo. And you, with no tattoos, who complained that you’d never put something permanent on your body, got it. In a place that’s visible. To match me.”

“It’s just a tattoo, Son. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s permanent. It’s kinda a big deal.”

“I can’t believe that’s how you knew. This is ridiculous.”

Sonnett raises her eyebrows challengingly, and Lindsey drops it because she knows Sonnett is right. “I need you to do something for me,” she says softly.

“Anything!”

“I can’t break up with her on the phone. I have to go home and talk to her in person. But I need you to rebook that flight you had me on.”

It takes all the practiced self-control Lindsey can muster to remain calm. “Sure, no problem.” She watches the corner of Sonnett’s mouth quirk up like she knows, because of course she knows. “Wh- when do you want to come out?”

“Dunno. Give me a coupla days? And then whatever day’s cheapest?”

Lindsey just stares in awe – of her, of the realization that this is really happening. She’s finally going to know – not today – but she’s finally going to know what Sonnett’s lips feel like on hers.

“Linds. Hey, Linds!” Sonnett shakes her arm.

“Hmm.”

“They’re calling your flight. You gotta go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, ok. Bye, Dasani,” Lindsey gives her an awkward hug because it’s a crowded airport and what they’re embarking on, no matter how much it’s what she wants, is new and the frequency between them feels different.

“Hey, Linds?” Sonnett catches her hand as she turns away. “Tell me you love me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I need to hear you say it.”

“No. This is an airport. And you know I do. I tell you every time we get off the phone.”

“But that’s different.”

“No, it was wasn’t, Dasani,” Lindsey pulls her into a hug that’s more like them this time, Sonnett relaxed and breathing slowly against her neck. “I always meant it the way you were hoping I meant it.”

* * *

“Sunday’s are not the cheapest day to fly, Linds. I told you to book the cheapest flight you could find.”

Lindsey can’t see her, all she can see are her pillows stacked up against her headboard, but she can hear her rushing around her bedroom, presumably packing a suitcase. “Wednesday? You wanted me to wait til Wednesday? No.”

“I mean, I had to wait for years. Seems like you could have waited another three days.”

“Well I can’t,” Lindsey pouts to no one, wasting that perfectly jutted out lower lip.

“Can’t?”

“One hundred percent definitely cannot. I have lots of time to make up for.”

“Make up for how?” Sonnett asks curiously, her face popping into the screen.

“Get on the damn plane and come find out, Dasani.”


	3. From Time to Time (Emily+Rose+Lindsey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two-a-days in camp are already tiring enough when you don't have two women to manage on top of everything else.

“Fuck,” Lindsey whines as the same curse word flies out of Sonnett’s mouth simultaneously, hers more of an alarmed hiss than the complaint that was Lindsey’s response to the interruption. The knock on the door is quickly repeated, sharper this time.

“Hide!” Sonnett whispers, a bit too loudly in her panic, because Lindsey - half-dressed - has yet to move from her spot on the bed. They _had_ a plan for this. But the plan involved Lindsey actually getting up and contorting into the small space of the wardrobe, not laying there looking a little perturbed, but still almost… blissful. 

“Just be quiet. Whoever it is will go away,” Lindsey tries to assure her, barely doing more than mouthing the words and pulling Sonnett’s stiff body back down on top of her for a kiss. Her lips stop Sonnett from protesting, from trying to explain that whoever it is won’t buy that she’s not in her room because they’re not allowed to be anywhere _but_ their rooms. They’ve been over it; now that they’re actually in it, Lindsey doesn’t seem to care anymore, her hands sliding back across Sonnett’s ass and pulling her impossibly closer. 

She’s so unbothered, so intensely focused on Sonnett, that the defender could almost forget about what has become a steady, irritating click of nails on her door. Lindsey used to be so good at being quiet - when she had to on road trips with the Thorns. She probably still could. And it’s been so long. So maybe they should and probably no one would know… but...

There are only a couple of people who would knock so annoyingly loud and then have the patience - the audacity - to stand there, following it up with incessant tapping. Kelley.

“Sonnett, I know you’re in there. Open the door!”

And Rose.

Lindsey seems to sense that Sonnett’s about to bail so she flips them, pressing Sonnett back into the bed and slotting her muscular thigh between the other woman’s in a way that might could keep her there physically, but really, it’s meant to render her helpless before she can even _think_ about putting up a fight. 

And god, how Sonnett wishes she weren’t so high-strung, wishes she could be more like Lindsey, so wrapped up lips and hips and _fuck_ … Lindsey bites down on her nipple… breasts that Rose would be an afterthought, but she has the unfortunate ability to be both turned on and hyper aware of what’s going on around her at the same time.

So… 

Lindsey ends up on the floor on the far side of the bed.

Sonnett’s surprisingly strong, it turns out. Strong enough to throw her off when it becomes a necessity.

“What the fuck Son?” she hisses, and gone is that blissed-out look of a woman about to be fucked for the first time in months. But Sonnett doesn’t have time to deal with that. With one finger, she shushes the blond scowling up at her. Lindsey came within two inches of knocking her head on the corner of the nightstand, so frankly, as far as she’s concerned, Sonnett’s lucky she’s not screaming - or attempting to murder her - right now, because even though her head survived, she knows she’s going to have a bruise on her hip. A bruise that she’s now going to have to blame on Kelley’s aggressive play when someone asks. And thank God for _that_ lie and its believability. Kelley probably won’t even know she isn’t responsible.

“Just- just stay there. I’ll make her go away,” Sonnett pleads, because at this point, she really, really – like _really_ – needs Rose to leave. And, if she waits any longer to open the door while Lindsey tries to get to a real hiding spot, she knows Rose’s ever-growing suspicions will lead her straight to the truth. Rose knows everything, after all.

Rose doesn’t leave.

Of course she doesn’t leave.

The second the door is cracked open, she pushes her way into Sonnett’s room, and really, she shouldn’t be able to because she’s tiny, but a surprised Sonnett isn’t a match for a determined Rose, no matter how slight her frame. She dramatically falls down on the bed closest to the door. “What took you so long? How am I supposed to be discreet about coming to see you when you leave me out there all obvious like that?” And then Rose turns and actually looks at her, and Sonnett knows she already on the path towards discovery. “You’re disheveled, Sonny,” she smirks, and Sonnett looks down at what was her previously perfectly ironed tee. “Come here.” Sonnett obeys, partially because it’s Rose and she kinda can’t say no, and partially because no would just arouse more suspicion. She sits on the bed carefully, tucking a leg under her. “Sonny,” Rose continues in that same suspicious tone that verges on already knowing everything, “that’s almost… not quite, but almost… what your sex hair looks like.”

“My what?” Sonnett chokes, and Rose chuckles.

“Your sex hair. Emily Ann Sonnett, were you touching yourself? Because why didn’t you just- ”

“No!” Sonnett shrieks, and that’s when Lindsey can’t hold it in any longer. She lets out a snort that quickly becomes a guffaw, muffled only by her arm, then she’s giggling in that uncontrollable, adorable way that only Lindsey can giggle. 

It doesn’t take long for Rose’s laughter to overpower hers, and for Lindsey to sit up like a prairie dog poking only its head out of its burrow; she’s still topless after all. And all the while, Sonnett is left staring helplessly between them. 

Rose knows. She’s known.

Everybody knows. 

It was the worst-kept secret for awhile, but surprisingly - or maybe not, because the entire team adores the bundle of nerves that is Sonny - no one really harassed them about it. It was just a fact of life, an unspoken understanding that if they could keep their arrangement professional, no one cared. The jabs and jokes flew around in spurts occasionally, but they were mainly directed at Lindsey and mainly thanks to, surprise, surprise… Rose (also sometimes Pinoe). But they followed the “No Girlfriends at Camp” rule - because they weren’t girlfriends - and it wasn’t the big deal that Sonnett, especially, thought it would be.

They lived a few minutes from each other in Portland.

They could hook up whenever. It didn’t need to be at camp.

The trade wasn’t even enough to get them to break unwritten team rules. But that was back when a 2020 season with trips to each other’s cities was still on the horizon.

Then they didn’t see each other for 300 days.

And… well… rules were meant to be broken, right? Sonnett was sure that saying was meant for this exact situation when Lindsey stood at her door earlier.

Apparently, Lindsey wasn’t the only one who intended to blatantly disregard the rules today.

And therein lies the problem for Sonnett. A problem she should have anticipated, but strictly adhering to the aforementioned rule meant it had never been a problem.

Rose knows about Lindsey, but Lindsey doesn’t know about Rose.

And that’s not a problem, per say. Because Lindsey is her friend… with benefits… but it’s nothing more and they’re both good with that. And Lindsey has… errr… had her own relationship still going on in the foreground… maybe background would be a more appropriate description… while they were doing what they were doing. So it was always understood that Sonnett could… would… also do what she wanted on her own time. Sometimes, the barista at Northwest was looking extra cute and she could be trusted to keep Sonnett’s secret safe from the world. Sometimes, that meant Sonnett would use her soft smile to pick up an unassuming woman browsing the Interior Design section at Powell’s, someone who hadn’t a clue who she was. And sometimes - three-ish times per season - while Lindsey was busy catching up with Mal, Sonnett and Rose could sneak away and spend the night together with the same understanding.

And when Europe called to both of them, a two-and-a-half-hour flight wasn’t much of a barrier to hop over. Off days and international breaks, byes and just because. Hooking up with a friend was way better than hooking up with a stranger.

It’s not that she thinks Lindsey will be bothered by it, it’s just… it could be… awkward. Two women vying for her attention. At the same time. Well, not at the _same_ time, but… kinda at the same time. They’re both here right now, breaking protocol, for her.

“Wait,” Lindsey pipes up, “how do you know what her sex hair looks like, Rosie?” For a moment the two teammates stare across the room at each other, and Sonnett wonders if she’s misread Lindsey, and then they’re both busting out into a fit of giggles all over again. 

“So this is really putting a damper on my plans for this afternoon,” Rose falls back on the bed, finally able to catch her breath.

Sonnett gets up to find Lindsey’s shirt for her so she can come out from her hiding spot, and then she realizes she doesn’t really have a bed to sit on anymore. There’s room on both, but sitting on one feels like picking one of them over the other. She’s stuck with the uncomfortable desk chair.

“I was here first, and you’re kinda ruining my plans, too,” Lindsey points out. “Shoo, go away.”

“Hmpf,” Rose huffs. And doesn’t move.

“You saw her last month, I haven’t seen her since March,” Lindsey argues, and Rose looks to Sonnett.

“I mean, she’s kinda… you know what, I’m not getting involved in this,” Sonnett decides to shut her mouth before it’s too late.

“What if I stay?” Rose asks, and it’s almost innocent, it could be innocent, but there’s a gleam in Rose’s eyes, and Sonnett knows, before Lindsey, where Rose is going with this.

“Rose, I swear to God,” Lindsey grumbles. “What part of ‘I haven’t seen her in forever’ do you not get?”

Rose lets out a soft chuckle. “What part of me staying do _you_ not get?” And _then_ Lindsey gets it, when that little, tiny smirk creeps across Rose’s lips. Rose can see the moment the realization hits her. “Come on, it’s not like you haven’t thought of it,” Rose presses her because Rose knows no boundaries.

Sonnett jumps in to give Lindsey a moment to breathe because her reddening face makes it pretty clear she’s not at the moment. “I can absolutely say with 100% certainty that I haven’t thought about it,” she says resolutely. Until now. She hadn’t thought of it until now when both of them sought her out and Rose laid the option on the table. Or the bed. Now, it’s all she can think of.

“Whatever,” Rose rolls her eyes. “Lindsey, I _know_ you’ve thought about it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Her words come out in a strangled sound, but Rose just gives her a pointed look that keeps her talking without Rose having to explain herself further. She never does. “I mean, I’ve thought about it, but not with _you_.” 

“Ooohhh,” Sonnett’s interest is definitely piqued now.

Rose doesn’t even bother with being offended until she can root out who her competition is, and it’s not like she has to press; continuing to stare Lindsey down is all it takes. “I’ve thought about… you know… Kelley… but she’s all in love now so.”

“Kelley!” Rose scoffs. “I’m better in bed than Kelley. I feel like I might be insulted by this. Sonnett, tell her.”

“Tell her what?” she asks innocently, but Rose doesn’t let her off the hook either. 

“Tell her the sex we have is amazin. The best you’ve- ”

“Ok, ok, ok, we’re not ranking people here,” Sonnett cuts her off, suddenly fearing this might be a much worse idea than she originally anticipated.

“No, I want to know, Son,” Lindsey chimes in.

She never thought Lindsey would team up with Rose on this of all things. “You’re both great. Amazing. In different ways,” Sonnett says diplomatically.

“Ohhh, that’s some bullshit,” Rose grumbles, and Lindsey enthusiastically agrees. “Tell her what she’s missing out on, Sonny.”

“Fine,” Sonnett acquiesces, “Linds, you’re really missing out on Rose.” And then she can’t help herself. “Like really missing out. And you too, Rosie. You’re both missing out, ok?”

The real possibility of the moment finally seems to hit Lindsey. “Maybe we should table this,” she suggests, her discomfort starting to show through.

“Whatever,” Rose rolls her eyes. “I didn’t realize you were such a prude. Sonnett, come over later.”

Sonnett lets out a sigh as she returns to Lindsey’s side after seeing Rose out. Camp is exhausting as it is, without making time for one, let alone two, women. But she hasn’t seen Lindsey in forever, and after February, she’s not going to see Rose for forever, so she might have to make time for both of them, sleep schedule be damned. Unless…

“Linds,” Sonnett rolls on top of her and noses along her jaw, “babe?”

“Hmm?” Lindsey purrs, Sonnett’s hand moving from her neck to her breast.

“You have to admit, it’s not the worst idea Rose has ever had.”

“Do you call Rose ‘babe,’ too?” Lindsey ignores her, but not her hand, biting down on Sonnett lip in response to the slight pinch.

“Ow! What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well if we were to do this, and you said ‘babe,’ how would I know if you were talking to me or her?”

“Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, Miss Horan?” Sonnett sits up on her smiling down and loving every second of it.

“Not at all.”

“Yeah, ok,” she smirks.

Lindsey directs Sonnett’s lips back down to hers. “I’m not jealous,” she insists, but if Sonnett were to judge by that kiss, she’d say otherwise. “Is she really good in bed?”

“She’s um… bossy. Kinda wild. Doesn’t really surprise me she’d be into this.”

“What does that mean?”

“Come on, she’s always had a thing for you. You see how she looks at you.”

“Rose?” Lindsey scoffs.

“Don’t act surprised, Linds. You’re fucking hot.”

* * *

Walking towards the training pitch adjacent to their hotel, Rose tunes out the deep discussion Lindsey and Sonnett are having about whose dog would fare better at Crufts. Rose is mostly uninterested because the answer is so obviously Wilma that she doesn’t understand why the other two are bothering to continue this now 10-minute long argument. But she’s also distracted. Distracted by the way Sonnett keeps talking with her hands, flailing them all over the place because she’s so adamant about Bagel’s superiority, not just as a show dog, but also in flyball and agility. “You have two hands,” she blurts out before she even has the chance to consider whether she should or not.

“Just because Fergy’s shaped like a potato doesn’t-” Lindsey stops mid-sentence and her mouth drops open as she leans past Sonnett to look at Rose.

“What?” Rose says indignantly. “It’s true.”

“That is a fact,” Sonnett agrees with a little eyebrow wiggle and without missing a beat. “And I’m equally good with both of them, just like I’m equally good with both feet. No weakness,” she adds proudly.

“That settles it. We’re coming over during nap time today, Linds,” Rose grins.

Bossy.

Lindsey scoffs at that. “We’re _not_ doing this in my room.”

But it’s not a _we’re not doing this_.

“My room is always open to you two beautiful ladies,” Sonnett jumps in before Lindsey changes her mind. Except the newfound curiosity with which Lindsey is looking at Rose tells Sonnett that she’s not going to change her mind. “Have a good practice,” she winks, walking ahead of both of them.

* * *

“You two started without me?” Lindsey says indignantly when Rose opens the door to her soft knock.

“Nope, that’s what she looked like when I got here,” Rose glances over her shoulder at Sonnett who is busy picking up the smattering of dirty clothes on her floor.

She’s in a rolled up pair of old game shorts and a sports bra, and it’s not lost on her, that both of them look at her in a way that proves they appreciate her wardrobe choice, or lack of. And she did it on purpose. Less clothes to take off. A way to put Lindsey, at least, at ease. And it works, reminding Lindsey of the way she used to move about her Portland apartment. And it works because now, Lindsey seems to be only focused on one thing – how Sonnett’s nipples show so prominently though the fabric in the slight chill of the hotel room – now that she knows Rose wasn’t getting a sneak peek.

“So how do we- ” she starts nervously, because for someone who’s thought about it, she’s hasn’t _thought_ about it, not logistics, at least, but Sonnett cuts her off with a kiss that’s slow and deep and reassuring without the necessity of words.

“We get you in less of this,” Sonnett tugs at her hoodie. “Both of you in less.”

She doesn’t even have to ask Rose to help, as she easily fits against Lindsey’s back, covering Sonnett’s hands and then taking over, crawling up along Lindsey’s ribs until they’re just under the elastic of her sports bra. Back down they run, nails dragging along Lindsey’s skin, and with a second pass up, Rose’s fists now hanging on to Lindsey’s clothes, her hoodie and tee are off. Lindsey’s joggers make their way to the floor with Sonnett’s help while Rose’s lips explore the lines of her back, and suddenly, left only in underwear, she’s hot and cold all over.

Once Rose is satisfied with Lindsey’s near-nudity, she sheds her own clothes, and watches Sonnett do the same, Lindsey still almost hanging onto her. They end up in the same position, kneeling on the bed, Sonnett in front and Rose behind, and Rose lets them have a few minutes to simply kiss and explore each other’s thighs and breasts while she watches. She starts running her hands down Lindsey’s spine, slowly helping her adjust to the weight of another pair of hands on her, to the idea of this actually happening. It’s not long that Rose can resist sliding her hands over Lindsey’s still-clothed ass, and it’s not lost on her that it only takes Lindsey a few distracted seconds to shift on the bed without breaking contact with Sonnett’s lips, to allow room for Rose’s hand to move between her legs. Her fingers skim over the delicious dampness of Lindsey's underwear.

It’s Rose who helps her out of them. Rose who first slides her fingers through Lindsey’s slick folds, and that touch is all it takes for the last bit of Lindsey's nerves and doubts to fade. It's Rose who whispers in her ear and convinces her to lie back on the bed even if she doesn’t stay there for long, popping back up onto her elbows at the feeling of Rose’s fingers first dipping inside her hole. Rose’s touch that lets her know it’s ok to let her legs fall open. For a moment, she’s lost, staring down in an almost confused awe at the slight, chestnut-haired woman between her legs, whose fingers move like a ghost inside of her until they hit just the right spots to make her jump.

Sonnett taps Lindsey's jaw, refocusing her attention. Their lips crash back together, and Lindsey could keep that up forever, she thinks, kissing this woman as if she is the only thing left keeping her moored to the terrestrial world. But then Sonnett uses the hand she’s not holding herself up with to circle Lindsey’s clit, and Lindsey doesn’t think there’s anything that can stop her from floating away. In the end, all that can keep her grounded long enough to feel what she really wants – those fast, almost rough movements against her swollen bud – is sucking Sonnett’s nipple into her mouth. The surprised “fuck, baby” that escapes in a high-pitched whine, that Lindsey knows is just for her. The stutter as her teeth scrape the tender flesh and her tongue follows soothingly. Her brain doesn’t misfire early when she can divide her focus like that. But it does eventually, as the two women bring her to a fever pitch of intensity and she can’t continue holding back the ache spreading into her stomach. Not after she’s waited so long for Sonnett. Not when she has two women working in sync to get her off. Not when every possible sense and nerve that could be stimulated is on fire at the same time.

She grips Sonnett’s forearm in that telling way she reserves only for when she needs the weight of the older woman’s body to get her through the aftershocks of an intense orgasm. Sonnett straddles her, and Rose’s fingers move effortlessly from Lindsey to Sonnett, fucking her from behind while she kisses Lindsey back to life. As Rose’s fingers curl inside of her again and again, she finds herself shamelessly grinding against Lindsey’s center to the sounds of Lindsey whispering sweet encouragement in her ear. And despite the burning in her wrist from the awkward angle, Rose doesn’t slow her pace until she feels Sonnett’s walls tightening around her and she’s coming on Lindsey with a singular – and loud – moan.

Sonnett flops over onto the bed, and Lindsey quickly presses against her, not wanting to lose the warmth and security of Sonnett’s skin. “Holy fuck, Rosie,” Sonnett says breathlessly, trying to regain the steadiness she’s lost, and Rose just continues lightly scratching her stomach until the heaving subsides. The self-satisfied smirk never leaves her face though, not even when Sonnett tries to kiss it off.

“Rose, why don’t you tell us what you want,” Lindsey says softly after awhile, reaching across Sonnett to trace a line along Rose’s hip.

Rose hardly misses a beat given the opportunity. “Your head down there,” she directs Lindsey towards the foot of the bed, and both women untangle themselves from Sonnett. A moment later, she’s hovering over Lindsey, letting the blonde run her hands over her thighs, and peeking over her shoulder to catch Lindsey taking in the view of her ass. The next, she’s lowering herself onto Lindsey’s waiting mouth. Her first bit of relief from everything she’s been holding in comes with the first swipe of Lindsey’s tongue. 

And Sonnett watches. She watches the way Lindsey's whole body tenses - always wanting to be good - as she fucks Rose with her tongue, nails leaving crescent-shaped imprints in Rose's delicate skin as she keeps the younger woman close. She marvels at the way Rose's face contorts as she grinds on Lindsey's chin, able to only intermittently focus her own tongue on Lindsey's center. And she touches herself as Rose gets closer and closer to falling over the edge - the signs are all there like they are when it's just the two of them: her ragged breathing and patchily flushed chest, the way she squeezes her eyes shut and when that's not enough, bites down on her lower lip - but it's different watching from a few feet away. It's different being able to get off _with_ her without touching her or being touched by her. It's different in how quiet she is, and Sonnett doesn't know if that's a product of hotel life or Lindsey, but she raises Rose's slack body up and kisses her deeply, the same way she would if it were just the two of them. "Not done with you, beautiful girl," she whispers, dropping a soft peck to Rose's temple and moving off the bed because she knows how little time Rose needs to recover.

”See, I told you you had two hands for a reason.” The devilish smile spreads across Roses face and all Sonnett can do is shake her head. She does, and she is confident in them both, but it feels there there will be plenty of time to put that to the test.

This time, when Lindsey's tongue flicks furiously against Rose's clit, Sonnett's fingers are inside of her trying to pump in and out at the same pace until Rose is begging her - just a single, needy "please, Sonny," is all she has to hear to know that Rose needs the pads of her fingers stroking over her g-spot because she can't wait any longer; she never begs until she's almost too far gone. Sonnett can feel the trembling in Rose's entire body, starting in her arms and thighs and moving in undulations to meet at her center as the second orgasm wracks her body and she comes into Lindsey's mouth and down her chest. She rolls off Lindsey and onto her side, totally spent, and totally blissful.

Somehow, they're going to have to find the energy to make it back to their rooms eventually. To shower. To look presentable before they go down for their pre-session testing and fueling. To go again on the pitch because they're still in two-a-days.

But sometime isn't now, so Sonnett squeezes in between them, and Lindsey rights herself on the bed, joining her. “You know, we should make this thing a thing,” Sonnett says lazily, tucking Rose against her.

Lindsey’s already nestled into her side, has been there since as soon as she could, a clear sign that she's on the same page as Sonnett and intends to spend what is left of their downtime napping right here and not in her own room. “A thing like…”

“You know, whenever we’re in the same place,” Sonnett yawns.

“Well what if only two of us are in the same place?” Rose asks, propping herself back up a little to look directly at Lindsey. That would be the only thing that’s different, after all.

“You two will never be alone together. You dipped and went to Europe,” Sonnett reminds her.

“Ok, but hypothetically,” Rose presses, continuing to stare at Lindsey, wanting her take on this.

When she doesn’t answer, Sonnett slowly opens one eye to find Lindsey looking expectantly at her. “I don’t care what the two of you do without me. I mean, you’re never going to be around each other without me there, but hypothetically, I don’t care.”

“I’ll come back one day,” Rose says assuredly, and Lindsey blushes which pleases Rose to no end. “So this thing, is this an exclusive thing, or are you two fucking other people?”

“I broke up with Russell months ago.”

“Yeah, I don’t really have time anymore for anyone but you two,” Sonnett adds, yawning again.

They both look at Rose.

“I’m not hooking up with anyone at Man City, don’t worry about me!”

“So what was that thing with Ellen White and the shorts?” Sonnett teases.

“You need to stay off of Twitter.”

“ _She_ does!” Lindsey agrees. “I only use it for Messi. She searches your name.”

Sonnett shrugs, unbothered. “Only cause I love you, RoRo. I love both of you. Bunches.”

“I love you, too, Dasani,” Lindsey settles back against her as the conversation dies down. But Rose clearing her throat dramatically makes the peace short-lived. “I love you, too, Rosie. But not like that. I don’t love either of you like that.”

“Whatever!” Rose reaches over to poke Lindsey in the ribs.

“Yeah, seriously!” Sonnett says, unbothered and unbelieving. “You know you do. You _love_ us.”

“Love you about as much as I love one of your loud, wet kisses.”

“What! One of these?” No way Sonnett’s gonna let her off the hook, not when she has Rose to help hold her down, and once again, Lindsey’s giggle is filling her room, unbridled as she comes undone for a different reason this time.

They’re good together, the three of them. Good enough for the times they _can_ be together. Good enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bought myself more time on the last one, like at least another week. You'll see. It'll be justified. Not necessarily good, but logically justified.


	4. Lead Time (Lindsey+Kristie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kristie has a plan to help give Sonny a birthday do-over, but she needs to get Lindsey on board first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sundays are for smut, and since it’s almost Monday, Mondays are for smut, too.
> 
> This was requested by multiple people on tumblr, and I said no because I didn’t want to write two different threesome fics. But here I am, doing just that, as a way to avoid writing other things. Or maybe I was bullied into it. You'll never know. If you want to bully me you can over there. Same username.

**Part 1**

“Are you still single?” Jane asks, hardly looking up at Lindsey, mouth still full of a too-big bite of steak.

“Dude, what the fuck? You have a girlfriend,” Lindsey narrows her eyes at the goalkeeper across the table. Even if Jane didn’t have a girlfriend, she wouldn’t… at least she doesn’t think she would… she might… they’re friends… it might not be too-

“Ew! No,” Jane swallows her food awkwardly and promptly chokes.

“Ew, no?” Lindsey asks incredulously, ignoring the fact that Jane might die. She doesn’t even consider helping by nudging her water bottle closer. She does slam her hand on the table, momentarily drawing the attention of some nearby teammates, but they don’t seem too concerned about Jane’s coughing fit either. “What the fuck you fucking asshole!” she hisses, struggling to keep her volume down. “I’m hot! You should _be_ so lucky. That’s what you get.”

Jane wipes the tears from her eyes and is finally able to take a swig of water without it bringing another bout of coughing. “Don’t be a dick, just answer the question.” 

“Yes, I’m single,” Lindsey rolls her eyes. She doesn’t like being put on the spot like this, doesn’t like talking about it, regardless of the motive. And she can’t even begin to fathom what Jane’s motive might be right now if it's not fucking her.

“Are you still sleeping with Sonnett?”

“What the fuck, Jane! Seriously! What is this about?”

“Calm down. I’m on a reconnaissance mission.”

“For who?”

“Can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be a successful mission if I did.” But Lindsey just glares at her until she gives in. “God, you’re annoying. Kristie,” she mumbles, looking about nervously.

“Mewis?” Lindsey lets out a little half-laugh, and she’s kind of relieved this really isn’t about Jane, kind of intrigued, and kind of scared out of her mind. It’s probably a joke, lest the older Mewis appear within earshot.

“Do you know another?”

And Lindsey just stares at her for another couple of beats, trying to hide the panic building in her chest, not knowing what to make of it. Kristie Mewis. Sam’s sister. There’s no way… could she be? She’s single now… but… she’s not exactly Kristie’s type. Is Kristie her type? What is her type, outside of Sonnett? She hasn’t ever had a reason to put much thought into it. Still… “If Kristie wants answers to those questions, she knows where to find me. Tell her to grow a pair,” Lindsey shoots daggers across the table at Jane, feigning a confidence because she can. She’s good at it. She’s mostly pretty confident all the time now, but just in case, for the times she’s not, like when she’s not starting and when Jane says shit that knocks her sideways, she has a practiced swagger about her. It's useful.

* * *

  
  


Lindsey didn’t think that Kristie would actually come find her. She doesn’t quite know what she was thinking when she relayed that message to Jane, a little cocky and less than forthcoming. She should have known it would be passed along to Kristie, probably with some additional commentary. Hopefully, Jane’s enough of her friend to have left out how Lindsey nearly spat out her own water, how her face and neck flushed, how hard she had to fight back that nervous giggle. Hopefully, Jane was focused enough on her own survival to not even notice. But the knock on her door isn’t Sonnett; it’s a different, taller, older blonde, but a blonde who pushes her way in just the same. Like she belongs.

“I wasn’t getting Jane to be my wingman,” Kristie insists, without so much as a hello.

“Um, ok.” Twice now today, without even putting herself out there, Lindsey’s managed to be turned down by lesbians and she doesn’t quite know how to feel about that. Yes, she does. When Kristie leaves, she’ll have Sonnett come over and do what she does best: remind her that she’s sexy and wanted. 

But Kristie doesn’t seem intent on leaving anytime soon, surveying the room, and finally choosing Lindsey’s bed to sit. “I mean, I don’t need a wingman, I can flirt myself if I want to flirt.”

“Still not better,” Lindsey points out as she leans against the wall and tries to figure out what Kristie wants if she doesn’t want her. 

“You missed Sonnett’s birthday.”

“Yeah. Fucking COVID. It’s not like I meant to," she replies defensively.

“You’re the only one she really wanted there,” Kristie says earnestly. It’s not the easiest thing for her to admit to. It would have been nice if Sonnett could have moved past missing Lindsey. It would have been nice if she had been enough.

Lindsey doubts that. She’s not stupid. She knows Sonnett probably had plenty of options for attention in the Netherlands. “Like I said, it’s not like I did it on purpose. Thanks for rubbing it in though. I’m sure she was fine. I’m sure _you_ made sure she was fine,” Lindsey raises her eyebrows.

And that’s all Kristie needs to be certain that Lindsey knows. It’s clear now, but Lindsey’s not kicking her out. She doesn’t seem particularly mad. Maybe perturbed a little, but not mad, which is a relief because it could have been the only hitch in her plan. “She was fine-ish,” Kristie agrees, “but I could just tell, you know?”

Lindsey nods. She knows. She knows all of the small changes that give away how Sonnett really feels when her words say otherwise. The way her eyes dull. The difference between a real smile and a forced one; it’s the lack of laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. The way she wrings her hands when something’s not quite right, and as soon as she sees someone’s eyes dart down, as soon as someone notices, she switches to obscurely picking at the cuticles on her thumb with her index finger. It's subtler movement, one less likely to draw attention. The fact that Kristie has obviously picked up on some of this bothers her. It bothers her more than knowing Kristie’s sleeping with her, even though she has no right to feel the tightness closing around her chest right now because Sonnett isn’t hers. She blew that chance years ago. Almost fucked things up for good after her outburst in Utah led to a break up and subsequent makeup with her boyfriend. She took to long to end it with him again. So now, she settles for what she can get, for what Sonnett gives her, but the defender is never willing to commit to anything real. And Lindsey gets that too, how that’s all she’s earned, all she deserves. She holds out hope that someday, Sonnett will trust her again, enough to give her a chance again, that it will be only her and she won’t have to share. But that possibility, if it even is one, seems so far off it’s intangible.

“I’m sure you promised her you’d make it up to her at this camp…” Lindsey nods again. “And that’s fine. I’m not trying to get in your way. I had…” Kristie hesitates, and for the first time since this conversation started, she seems nervous, scratching at the back of her neck. “I had an idea that I wanted to run by you. A belated birthday celebration since she didn't get what she really wanted. Something to make it extra special.” Lindsey’s silence tells her she’s not going to get any help from her midfield counterpart. The way she crosses her arms tightly over her chest makes Kristie second-guess herself for a moment. But she’s been planning this - in her head, at least, and to be fair, in her luggage - ever since her time with Sonnett in camp over Thanksgiving was spent differently than she had imagined. Holding her, stroking her arm, running her fingers through Sonnett’s straw-colored hair, and promising her that Lindsey would be ok even though she had no idea if Lindsey was going to be ok. Contrary to what Lindsey so obviously thinks, she didn’t spend Sonnett’s birthday taking her from behind like she thought about after the end of each FaceTime call, or giving Sonnett a turn fucking her against the wall like she promised she would. So now feels like as good a time as ever for them to both make that day up to her. Together. “I was thinking _we_ could celebrate her. Never know when the last time we’ll all be in the same place could be.” And in that statement, Kristie suddenly becomes more vulnerable than she ever intended to, acknowledging her tenuous her place in this team is.

Kristie watches carefully as Lindsey swallows hard, and then repeatedly clears her throat like she can't dislodge something. The blush that had spread across her cheeks is quickly replaced by the redness of being unable to breathe properly, and Kristie quickly closes the space between them. She drops a comforting hand to Lindsey’s shoulder, rubbing lightly until she’s regained her composure. And then, Lindsey doesn’t seem comfortable with Kristie in her space, so Kristie retreats back to the bed, leaving Lindsey feeling surprisingly unprotected against the wall. “She’s never had a threesome, you know," the older woman explains. "I can’t think of a better birthday present for her, can you?” 

“How- how do you know this?” Because Lindsey doesn’t know this. Not that she’d ever asked, because she’d never thought about it, but it feels like something she should know about her best friend.

“We played Truth or Dare in camp. Poor kid picked truth,” Kristie shrugs. “It was Rose asking. She should have known better. But,” she smiles fondly, “you know how cute she gets when she’s overwhelmed. You should have seen her.”

Lindsey ignores the last part, choosing instead to focus on one of her best friends and sometimes mortal enemy: Rose. It’s true. Always pick the dare when in Rose’s presence, because no matter how devious she is, it’s survivable. Her questions hold nothing back, and each little bit of knowledge she gleans, she holds onto for a later use. Sonny should have known that. If Lindsey had been there, she wouldn't have let Sonny pick truth. “I- I- I- don’t even know how that would work,” she finally stammers out, getting a taste of what Sonnett must feel sometimes when she’s put on the spot. Probably what she felt that night in the hotel surrounded by teammates as Rose grilled her.

“Because you’ve never had a threesome or?” Kristie leans back on her palms and crosses her legs, a smile creeping across her lips, and any earlier feelings of apprehension fade.

And yes, it’s partly because Lindsey’s never had a threesome, never even thought of having a threesome - with Sonnett or otherwise - but she’s not going to admit _that_ to Sam’s older sister lest it ever come up again in any sort of discussion. Besides, she doesn’t know if she trusts Kristie. She’s gay, but she’s still Sam’s sister. She’s Sonnett’s friend, but this is suspicious. “Because it’s you,” she croaks out, her voice still raw from a moment ago. And that’s also not a lie. It might, in fact, be a bigger part of the equation.

She doesn’t mean for it to sound as offensive as it comes out, but Kristie seems to take it in stride. “What about me?” she asks, her voice dropping a little in tone and volume so it can only be described as husky.

“I- I- I-” and there she goes again, unable to put enough words together to form a coherent sentence. 

Kristie does it for her, but first, she sits up straighter and motions Lindsey over to her, until the younger woman is standing between her legs, looking down at her, almost helplessly. “You think we’re too similar. That we’d clash,” she touches the back of Lindsey’s hand lightly. “That we’d both want to top Sonny?” she adds more explicitly and with a wink. “That the two of us couldn’t find something that works?”

Lindsey’s nod, as she pushes down the feeling of what can only be described as pressure in her chest back down into her stomach, is almost imperceptible, and Kristie’s soft brushing against the back of her hand turns into a full-on squeeze that feels surprisingly grounding.

“I’ve never met a woman who could top me. Or who I couldn't top depending on how you look at it, I guess. I don't think we'd have a problem. But we can test the waters before we bring her in if you want?”

This time, Lindsey doesn’t choke. This time Kristie’s words feel a little flattering and a lot like a challenge, and Lindsey Horan has never - ever - backed down to a challenge. Maybe this is the same false sense of assuredness, or maybe it's the adrenaline taking over with the prospect of Kristie naked under her now at the forefront of her mind, but suddenly, she has plenty to say about this. “Oh honey,” she drops one knee to the bed beside Kristie, playing with the loose blonde hairs on the back of her neck, “trust me when I say I can.” She runs the pads of two fingers slowly down Kristie’s jawline until they’re settled under her chin, and then tips Kristie’s head up towards her so that the older woman is no longer staring at her chest. Their eyes meet, and Lindsey holds her there. “You’re welcome to try to stop me though,” she says sweetly, maybe a touch overconfident, and she kisses Kristie in the same manner, leaving Kristie breathless and pulling away after a few minutes. _This is fine_ , she reasons with herself. _Sonnett sleeps with whomever she wants, she can to. And it’s for… research? Practice? Experience? Whatever it’s for, it’s for Sonnett in the end, so it shouldn’t matter_. _It’s fine. It’s just Kristie. Hot as fuck Kristie. It’s just Sam’s sis_ -

Kristie pulls Lindsey down on her, surprising the younger woman in more ways than one. For once, she doesn’t feel too big, doesn’t feel like she has to hold herself up to keep from crushing the woman beneath her. And she didn’t expect it would be so easy, that Kristie would lead her to this place, talk a big game, only to let her take control like this, but she has no plans to squander her opportunity even if she had never thought about getting Kristie in her bed and undressed… until dinner tonight. She slots a thigh expertly between Kristie’s legs. _It’s no different than with Sonny_ , she tells herself. She knows how to drive a woman crazy. She knows how to make a woman come. She knows-

 _Oh_!

Kristie’s thigh flexes up against her center, causing her to intake a sharp breath. And if she wanted to escape that delicious pressure, and clearly, her hips are saying otherwise as they reflexively chase after it, Kristie has every intention of keeping Lindsey right where she is. Her hands shoot down from Lindsey’s face to her ass, pulling her impossibly closer. 

It’s close enough that Kristie must feel the dampness through her leggings on her bare thigh, the dampness that began to pool there unintentionally as soon as she opened the door to Kristie’s face, and only grew as Kristie kept talking. She has to be aware of the way Lindsey’s breathing has changed - more rapid - and the way she’s losing her ability to kiss properly. The friction’s too much, the seam of the fabric no longer grazing, but now fully making contact with Lindsey’s clit. She should have put underwear on after her shower, but she didn't and now she's left moaning when she shouldn’t be. Not so soon. She's not that easy.

Kristie skims her fingers along Lindsey’s side, pushing her hoodie up with her as she goes, slowly, purposefully. She revels in the way Lindsey shudders against her until she’s smiling so much that their kiss would have become all teeth if Lindsey wasn’t so focused on sucking on her lower lip. She separates her fingers from Lindsey’s skin, fisting her hair and pulling their mouths apart, too, just enough so she can see her. “You can come,” she whispers. “I want you to come.”

She tries not to, tries to deny herself the release until it hurts somewhere deep in her stomach, but the shimmery fabric of her leggings glides so easily over Kristie’s hot skin. She can’t want it this badly, need it this badly, but she does. She hasn’t been touched in months except for when she was touching herself and it never felt as good as it does now, with Kristie’s hand firmly splayed across her ass and sinewy muscles under her for her to ride out her impending orgasm on. It’s better than with Sonnett through the small screen of her phone. Better still because for so long she felt so bad that sex wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. She tries not to come because of the wave of shame she can already anticipate, after how confidently she straddled Kristie, how confidently she fell on her, kissed her, only to be led to the precipice, still fully clothed, like a teenager. _How has she never realized that she was attracted to Kristie before now? Was it because she didn't think the older woman was a possibility? Was it her sole focus on Sonnett?_

Her thoughts let her hold off long enough, her movements still rhythmic and somewhat controlled. But then Kristie shifts under her, elevating her leg just enough so that Lindsey can’t deny herself any longer. “Come for me,” she repeats, like it’s not a suggestion this time, and when Lindsey does, there’s no shame, not even the slight bit she typically feels when she gets herself off. There’s euphoria followed by relief, and those emotions overcome any awkwardness that could wind it's way in because she fell into bed and under Kristie’s spell so quickly. There’s a pair of leggings that now are going to need to be laundered, that Kristie quickly discards when she flips them. There's a woman with beautiful blue eyes staring down at her more adoringly than smugly. There's a hand climbing under her hoodie, fingers gently twisting her nipple, almost questioning. “Tell me what you were saying,” she teases, and when she’s close enough to kiss Lindsey, Lindsey catches her lip between her teeth. Kristie frees herself and smirks. “Like I said…” she straddles the younger woman.

"Stop," Lindsey whines.

"Stop? Really?" Kristie questions, shirt halfway to over her head.

"I mean, not that, you know, just..." Lindsey stumbles over her words as Kristie proceeds to remove her shirt anyway, treating her to a sight she's never caught a glimpse of in a change room, another culprit of her perpetual distraction, she supposes. Small, perfect breasts, pert, pink nipples. She reaches up to touch them, only to have Kristie pin her wrists to the bed.

"Not yet," Kristie purrs as Lindsey rocks her hips up in search of friction again. She gives her a tantalizing taste of what she's craving, sliding her index and middle fingers through Lindsey's wetness along either side of her clit, but it's not enough. It's not enough on purpose. She needs to leave Lindsey wanting, thinking about this until Sonnett's with them, so she stills her hand and teases her tongue into Lindsey's mouth, much to Lindsey's dissatisfaction. "You don't want me to give you a hard time?" Kristie drags Lindsey up with her, and Lindsey juts out her lower lip as she nods. "I want this off," she tugs off Lindsey's hoodie and then pushes her back down. "And these need to come off," Kristie kicks out of her own shorts. 

"Not a fan of underwear either," Lindsey quips, letting her hands glide across the smooth skin of Kristie's backside and then up to her breasts, which she's allowed to cup this time.

"Didn't think I needed them tonight," Kristie drops a quick peck on her lips, "not for this."

Lindsey's about to ask her for what, but then she doesn't need to. Kristie centers herself over Lindsey's mouth, hovering just out of her reach and leaving her salivating. She doesn't smell like Sonnett, but it doesn't make Lindsey want to taste her any less. She grips Kristie's thighs, trying to pull her closer, but Kristie doesn't budge, instead looking down at her like she can wait as long as she needs. And she does wait, until Lindsey begs and is rewarded by Kristie's lips spread across her mouth, her tongue finally able to lick through her slit. Kristie hums along, letting Lindsey work over her clit with rapid flicks of her tongue. She likes watching, likes running her fingers through Lindsey's hair even if it is a little bit on the wrong side of tender; she figures she's allowed a little bit of that. But then Lindsey swipes her fingers through her folds and Kristie puts a stop to it. "No fingers. Don't stop licking." She lets Lindsey keep going until she assumes her jaw must be aching. It's a bit for show, considering how little effort it took to get Lindsey off, but she can't bother harboring any guilt about it because Lindsey's tongue is surprisingly good, and not too much, discreetly backing off every time she's close. Like she knows. "Suck," Kristie commands, and Lindsey greedily pulls the hard bud between her lips. "Fuuuuckk," Kristie pants. "Fuck. Fuck!" She's close, too close now and determined not to give Lindsey enough satisfaction to amount to bragging rights. "Stop."

Lindsey does - immediately - but has no time to wonder if she did something wrong because before she can even take a breath, Kristie's grinding down wildly on her face, getting herself off. She doesn't taste like Sonnett, she's saltier, but Lindsey doesn't mind, hungrily lapping up all of the juices she can. And the evidence dripping down her chin prevents her ego from registering even slight bruise. Kristie Mewis just came on her face. That's not something she'll forget for awhile, even if it was at the older woman's direction. 

Kristie swings her leg over Lindsey, and takes a deep, steadying breath that she holds onto for a few seconds before blowing it out and climbing off the bed. She leans over and kisses Lindsey, guessing correctly that tasting herself on the younger woman's lips will only leave her even more aroused than she already is. "Told you we'd be ok," she says with a knowing wink as she straightens herself to pull her shirt back down over her head. "See ya tomorrow."

And just like that, the stunning beauty is gone, leaving Lindsey to rub her face in bliss and confusion and anticipation and satisfaction... but not enough satisfaction to keep her from dipping her hand lower and rubbing something else.


	5. A Good Time (Emily+Kelley)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It slipped out on a pod. It didn't mean anything. Now Kelley won't let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this thing is just going to be out of order since I've now decided two of these chapters need a second part and I didn't want to write the second part of the threesome chapter. You'll live.

**Part 1**

“A good time, huh?” So often, Kelley is loud and over-the-top, too much and too flamboyant. The word “too” is a fitting precursor to so many adjectives that just wouldn’t be quite descriptive enough without the addition of the adverb. She’s the one out of the entire team, still at 32, that Becky has to shush the most, and that’s saying a lot considering the big personalities she competes with. But that’s because Kelley wants to be like that. And when she wants to sneak up on someone and give them the scare of their life, she’s more than capable of following in Alyssa’s ninja footsteps. Versatile, she is. Adaptable. She prides herself in that. After all, she scored goals at Stanford, and now she effectively saves them so Alyssa doesn’t have to. Basically, she’s capable of doing whatever she wants, whatever she puts her mind to. And this evening, she set her mind on Sonnett. Creeping up behind her and whispering in her ear as she bends over and rummages through one of the equipment cases, alone in a dimly lit room functioning as their storage, is her method of choice. The way Sonnett jumps, in the air and out of her skin, is exactly the result she was chasing. It’s what Sonnett deserves, calling her a good time on a podcast that countless people would hear.

“Jesus Christ, Kell!” Sonnett hollers spinning around and backing away. “You scared the crap outta me.” She sets down the bands she was looking for and narrows her eyes at Kelley whose smirk is on full display as she slowly inches closer and closer to violating the younger woman’s personal space. “What do you want?”

“ _Am_ I a good time? How would you know, Sonnett?” Kelley presses. And her cockiness spills over as she says it, so suggestively, that if her surprise appearance wasn’t enough to throw Sonnett off-kilter, and her slow approach isn’t doing it right now, her tone and eyes certainly could by themselves.

“I- I- I just meant that every time you drag us somewhere to do something only _you_ want to do, we all have a good time. You know that. I literally _said_ that. It was a compliment.”

“You _said_ …” Kelley makes sure to draw out that word as if Sonnett doesn’t remember what she said, “Kelley O’Hara: A. Good. Time.” She carefully enunciates each word, staring above Sonnett’s head into the imaginary distance, and uses her hand for emphasis in each pregnant pause. “That’s a strong assumption, Son,” by now Kelley is close enough to lean in to whisper again as she says Sonnett’s name because she knows what it does it her, the visible shiver it sends through her, “for someone who has never bothered to find out.” Kelley slides her hand along the young defender’s forearm. Up. Back Down. A second time, using her dull nails and more pressure. Toys with the tips of her fingers. And she doesn’t even bother to hide how smug she is as she watches the splotchy redness fill Sonnett’s cheeks.

Sonnett swallows down the lump in her throat so she can speak again, and that’s easy, albeit painful, enough. But she can’t hide the goosebumps making her fine arm hairs stand on end. Those, Kelley’s eyeing right now, so she rips her arm from Kelley’s reach. “Why are you touching me?”

“Why does it bother you?”

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” Kelley asks innocently

“That! Answering my questions with questions.”

“So it bothers you? You-” Kelley’s cut off by Becky appearing behind them, and she quickly backs out of Sonnett’s space.

“What are you two doing in here?” and to Kelley’s relief, her voice is more annoyed than suspicious.

“Bands,” Sonnett holds them back up, grateful for the interruption.

“Bags for ice,” Kelley adds. “What are _you_ doing in here? Monitoring everyone’s whereabouts now that you’re captain?”

“As if. Get yourself in trouble. Not my problem. Everyone knows the two of you well enough to know whatever you do is your own damn fault.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit. Carli, Pinoe, and Alex got in trouble when I-” and Sonnett takes the opportunity to escape the room while the two former club teammates bicker.

* * *

“Kelley’s coming,” Sonnett sees her in the distance, making her way down the path, and her voice takes on a warning tone. There’s enough time that if they get going now there’s less of a chance Kelley will be able to interrupt their outing.

“So?” Jane asks.

“So if we don’t get moving now, we won’t be golfing at all today.” And that’s part of it. But Sonnett cares less about the golf and more about not having to see Kelley. It’s bad enough that she has to train with her for hours on end. The encouraging pats on the ass on the pitch. The stares that last long enough for them to become uncomfortable, for Sonnett at least. The way she’s constantly finding reasons to nudge Sonnett in the ribs, sit too close, ask her if she’s having a good time. Always that same damn question now. So much so that everyone else has picked up on it, and everyone else thinks this “Am I a good time?” schtick is hilarious. The “Was that a good time, Sonnett?” as Kelley walked back from her 40-yard timed sprint, drenched in sweat and wiping her chest with the training top she had stripped out of was particularly brutal. There was also the joke she told at dinner the other night, loud enough for half the team to hear. “Sonnett, do you know what the difference between a good meal and a good time is?” Sonnett glared at her and didn’t answer. “Where you put the cucumber!” Rose literally fell out of her chair and rolled around on the floor laughing at that one. And there were the “For a good time call xxx-xxx-xxxx” notes slid under her door, along with a knock for good measure, at all hours. They all had Kelley’s phone number written on them in different handwriting, indicating just how many of her teammates were in on it.

“What?” Jane doesn’t get it. Not only is it lost her on how bothered Sonnett’s been by all of this, she hasn’t been around long enough fully understand Kelley’s penchant for changing everyone else’s plans.

“Trust me,” Sonnett pleads, and Lindsey shrugs, a kind of confirmation that the defender isn’t wrong, but it’s also not enough to deter either of them from taking pictures while Sonnett stands in the background, hoping that they’ll wrap it up and follow her onto the course.

She’s not that lucky.

“What’s up, ladies?” Jane and Lindsey return Kelley’s greeting enthusiastically; Sonnett stays where she is and does her best to ignore her. “Sonnett.”

Sonnett nods. And she thinks that will satisfy Kelley, a rather curt, but nonetheless acceptable, acknowledgement of her presence. Of course it’s not enough. Nothing ever is.

“No ‘hello,’ Sonny? No hug? No ‘how’s it going, Kell? I missed you, Kell. Wanna join us, Kell?’ I _am_ a good time, right? Feels like you should invite me.”

Lindsey lets out a snicker.

“Would you like to join us, Kelley?” Sonnett grumbles, but only because she’s pretty certain the answer will be a no. Kelley’s not exactly good at golf, and she doesn’t exactly enjoy things she’s not good at. Moreover, they can’t go anywhere. No vans, no Ubers, no leaving the property for any reason. In other words, no way for Kelley to disrupt their plans, replacing their outing with one of her own to an obscure coffee shop or a far-away beach, or God only knows what else her mind could conjure up for their rest day.

“Huh,” Kelley huffs. “No. I don’t feel like golf today. I walked all the way out here looking for you since you wouldn’t respond to my texts to tell you that I think we should go to the water park.”

Ok, so maybe Sonnett felt those texts buzz her watch and didn’t bother taking her phone out of her pocket to read them all. Maybe she just needed a day to decompress without the incessant ribbing. Besides, Kelley could have just texted Lindsey if she really wanted to know what they were up to and didn’t want to be bothered with walking around the resort looking for them. She could have just gone to the lazy river or wave pool on her own. She could have found someone who was hanging around the hotel with nothing to do to go with her. She could have- _You know what_ , Sonnett tells herself, cutting off her own rambling thoughts, _none of this matters. She’s here and now she needs to go away_. “We’re golfing. Like there are literally golf clubs in our hands and we are standing on a golf course.”

“No, _you_ are standing on a golf course,” Kelley points out. “These two are posing for a photo opp which I don’t even get because they’re not wearing cute golfing outfits, so what is the point? Y’all haven’t even started yet. Return the clubs and go change into swimsuits.”

“Um, we’re not supposed to be doing things around other people…” Jane starts, much to Sonnett’s relief. Someone on her side. Finally.

“And it’s cold. It’s winter,” Sonnett chimes in. “You’re aware of seasons, right? Was that part of your Stanford education?”

“I’m aware this is Florida and they don’t have seasons. Also, Jane, since you mentioned it, the water park is perfect because some people _think_ it’s winter, so no one is there. We can have it all to ourselves, I already checked. I dipped my toe in. It’s great. Perfect, really.”

Jane and Lindsey seem hesitant, and Sonnett thinks they’ll hold strong. They’ve talked about golf for days. There’s no way they’ll give into her...

“It’ll be a good time,” Kelley grins.

And that settles it for the two traitors: the promise of a good time with none other than their favorite friend and teammate, Kelley O’Hara, who proceeds to wiggle her eyebrows in a manner that screams of gloating in Sonnett’s direction.

Less than half an hour later, the foursome is in inner tubes in the lazy river, and Kelley’s not wrong. It’s nearly 80 degrees and sunny, and the water certainly feels better than their daily ice baths. In fact, once they’re past the initial plunge, it’s pretty darn nice. It could be a peaceful excursion, Sonnett reasons, cheek laying on her forearms as she soaks up the winter Florida sun shining on her face, legs dragging behind in the water as the current carries her along. She could drift off like this, almost forget about Kelley and how much her face burns when she’s near. How torn she is being showered with attention like she has been for days and desperately needing space. It warms her from the inside when Kelley touches her, even when she makes fun of her, but it’s one of those sensations so good she’d rather not experience at all. To Sonnett, it means the world; to Kelley it means nothing.

It would have been a peaceful excursion, if Kelley hadn’t decided she needed to tuck her foot under one of the handles on Sonnett’s tube “so we don’t get separated,” she winks. It’s a loop. Basically. There are places the river diverges into two branches, but those branches always come together again. There’s no getting lost. They’re literally still on their hotel property. It’s ridiculous, and Sonnett isn’t particularly in the mood for it, but slowly, Kelley breaks her down with her chatter about everything she loves in and about DC that she’s certain Sonnett will love, too. After awhile, Sonnett actually believes her, that she is going to love it there almost as much as she loved Portland. And she starts to believe her own self-talk as well. They’re friends. They’ll get to hang out as friends and nothing more, all the time, and it will be fine. Because it always has been fine. And it _is_ fine now. Until their lazy afternoon float is derailed by a few paddles as Kelley redirects their tubes towards a hidden canyon, and Lindsey and Jane, a few meters ahead on the main pass, are none the wiser.

“What are you doing?” Sonnett complains as Kelley pops out of her tube and drags them both to a stop.

“Are you having a good time?” she asks with just a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m fine. It’s a beautiful day. Very relaxing," Sonnett says rather easily, determined to not let Kelley get to her.

“Hmm,” Kelley murmurs like she’s unconvinced, and she lets her tube go.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” Sonnett repeats.

The problem is, Kelley isn’t exactly sure what she’s doing, because Sonnett’s muscular shoulders are leaning over the edge of her inner tube and her skin is golden and her lips are slightly parted and the loose pieces of hair that didn’t make it up into her bun are damp and sticking to her neck and it’s all really distracting. What started as a desire to relentlessly annoy her has turned into something more, and for once, Kelley doesn’t have something funny to say. She doesn’t even want to make Sonnett uncomfortable anymore – she wants to kiss her – but she can see on the younger woman’s face that’s exactly what she’s doing right now, all up in her space, close enough to kiss her if she wasn’t such a chickenshit all of a sudden. “I- I- I just wanted to know if I’m living up to your description of me,” she backs away just a touch. For the first time, she’s unsure of herself, of what she’s doing, of where this was supposed to go and what she was going to get out of it.

Sonnett rolls her eyes, relaxing with the increased distance. “I said I’m fine. It’s not golf, but it’s something to do. Can we… go now or?” Kelley nods. “You lost your tube, loser, have fun swimming.”

“Yeah, no,” Kelley jumps on and grabs ahold of Sonnett’s.

“Get off!”

“No, you sit in the tube the right way and then there’s more room for me to hold on.”

“God, you’re so demanding," she whines. But she does it, lifting herself up through the middle while Kelley’s left staring at the way her triceps pop. “You can hold on the back. But only if you kick. Catch us up to Lindsey and Jane. Or your tube. Since this is your fault.”

It’s payback all right, her lips being that close to Sonnett’s shoulders, but she can’t kiss them. Her nose tickled by the ends of the hair sticking out of Sonnett’s bun, but she can’t take her hair tie out and let if fall down around her shoulders like she really likes it. Those abs, that she gets a peak of when she adjusts herself a little higher on the tube. Absolute torture.

* * *

But Kelley’s short-term memory isn’t the best, and by the end of camp she’s forgotten just how tortuous that brief spell in the afternoon sun was, and she starts bugging Rose about Sonnett’s absence for movie night. Or maybe it’s because she subconsciously remembers every detail of it. “Rose, don’t you dare press play on that movie without Sonnett here. We’ve never had a movie night without her.”

“You had a movie night without me,” Lindsey pouts.

“You weren’t there, Germs, it doesn’t count.”

Rose lets out an exasperated and dramatic sigh and texts their missing friend.

**Rosie** : Come to my room. We’re having a movie night and you’re the only one not here.

It’s their last night of camp. Sonnett’s spent the days in between the lazy river and now avoiding Kelley as best she could. She’d call her efforts somewhat successful. The “good time” jokes have died down, at least.

**Rosie** : Let’s go, Son. Movie’s starting.  
 **Rosie** : Oh and run down to the storage room and get that case of popcorn. We’ll use the microwave in my room.  
 **Rosie** : Hurry tf up!

Rose isn’t going to leave her alone. She’s going to text her relentlessly, then march on down to Sonnett’s room and drag her out if she has to, and that’s going to be worse than just giving in now. Besides, when Rose says it’s everyone, it clearly can’t be everyone, which means there’s a chance that Kelley’s not part of everyone and it will be fine. She pulls her hair up and drags herself out of bed.

The second she rounds the corner of the entryway and can see all the way into Rose’s room, she knows it’s a mistake. The room is packed, not with everyone, just like Rose said, but with pretty much damn near everyone. Beds are full with three to four people each, it looks like in the dark. The floor is crowded enough with girls that she’d have to carefully step over limbs to get anywhere. There’s someone in the desk chair, two people on the loveseat, and as far as Sonnett can tell, not many options for where she can find a spot.

And there’s Kelley.

“Get in here, Sonny,” Mal voice comes from somewhere on the floor.

It feels like she doesn’t have a choice now.

She locks eyes with Kelley for a moment that she regrets. She’s on the bed closest to the window, sprawled out on her stomach and taking up far too much room for the overcrowded situation and her small frame. Her chin is propped up on her hands, eyes sparking in the light from the screen. She purposefully avoids Kelley’s eyes as she makes her way across the room. “Scoot,” she whispers to Rose, tiptoeing between the beds, over Sam’s torso, and almost tripping over her long arm. Rose's bed is more crowded, but she's not getting on the other one. No way, no how.

“No room at the inn.”

Sonnett rolls her eyes. Coming over wasn’t even her idea. She’s about to give up. About to make her way back through the minefield of bodies, when she feels a warm hand grab her own. Kelley uses her grip on Sonnett to right herself. “There’s room at this inn, Son.” And Sonnett’s about to protest, about to leave anyway, but Kelley’s pulling on her arm, more insistent than she’d like.

“God, Sonnett, can you just sit down, I can’t see!” Rose hisses.

Sonnett’s left with a decision. To flee the situation, which will look dramatic, especially with Kelley’s vice grip, and bring her unwanted attention since Kelley already offered to make room for her. Or she can stay, but staying entails being not just next to Kelley, but Kelley all up in her space. Not just being all up in her space, but breathing the same air. Not just breathing the same air, but feeling her heartbeat. She doesn’t think she can handle it. And yet she has to, because they’re about to start playing on a club team together. This is what she wanted, out of Orlando and somewhere she felt she’d belong, somewhere that didn’t remind her she was tossed aside for something new and shiny. Kelley was the one who helped her figure it out, helped her decide to go to Sweden, told her to push for a trade and refuse to take no for an answer. It all worked out, but now she’s not going to be able to escape Kelley from here to eternity, it seems, so she might as well find a way to breathe through a movie like a normal person who isn’t crazy about her friend. She sits back against the headboard, settling in as best she can.

And she does breathe through it. For a good half hour of Kelley occasionally adjusting her positioning by leaning back even harder against her, shimmying her shoulders and her butt until she fits just right. For a half hour of Kelley drumming her fingers on Sonnett’s thigh during the parts of the movie where the background music becomes more prominent, like it’s unintentional but Sonnett knows it’s anything but. For half an hour of feeling like she can’t take a deep breath because Kelley’s against her, but also because it feels like if she moves, if her chest rises too high to fill her lungs with enough oxygen, it will remind Kelley in the still moments that she’s there for the teasing. And then the movie turns more tense, and Kelley grabs Sonnett’s hand. In that moment, she doesn’t care if it’s because Kelley’s messing with her, using this part as an excuse to mess with her, or genuinely scared. She doesn’t care to process why it is that holding Lindsey’s hand doesn’t shoot this same dagger through her heart.

She just wants out. Away. Far, far away from the woman who makes her stomach flip. Makes her heart feel like it’s pounding out of her chest. Makes her want to scream because she was fine when they saw each other all the time and now that they've barely spent any time together over the past year, she’s not fine. She’s not fine because the time apart forced her to realize just how much she had accidently started caring for Kelley along the way, hoping they could be something more. The time apart made her daydream about situations where Kelley would take her hand, would touch her thigh, just like tonight. Would kiss her. She was going to be ok. She was going to see Kelley nearly every day soon and she was going to be able to calm down again. She just needed to make it though a couple of camps. But Kelley being Kelley had to make it near-impossible, and while Sonnett has done hard in the past, she can’t do this kind of hard. This kind of hard hurts because it’s just a joke to the older woman. They’ll never be anything.

And then Kelley pushes her over the edge. “This count as a good time, Sonnett?” she whispers against her ear.

She moves to get out from under Kelley, but Kelley doesn’t budge. She pushes again, but Kelley just leans back harder. The third time she tries to get up without making too much of a fuss, Kelley complains about her moving. So does Lindsey, on the bed next to them.

“Let me up, I need to get the fuck out of here!” She doesn’t care anymore what anyone thinks or about thinking about playing alongside Kelley in another month. All she cares about is running.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Lindsey shoots up, as the door clicks open, briefly flooding the room with a bright yellow light.

“Nothing!” Kelley shouts defensively, because she didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

“Bullshit. What did you say? You’ve been whispering to her all night.”

“I just asked her if this was a good time?” Kelley says sheepishly.

“Fuck.” Lindsey clambers over Kelley and out of the room to chase Sonnett down. She catches her just before she’s about to let herself into her room. It’s lucky, she knows, because Sonnett probably would have refused to let even her in. At first, she doesn’t say anything, instead wrapping Sonnett up in her arms, letting her fight because that’s the kind of energy she needs to get out right now when she can’t take it out on Kelley.

When she finally stops fighting, Lindsey loosens her grip around Sonnett’s shoulders, and lets her open her door, following her into her dark room. She doesn’t even bother turning on a light before she collapses on her bed, and Lindsey doesn’t force her to, falling in quietly beside her. “She doesn’t know, you know,” Lindsey says quietly, and Sonnett just turns away from her facing the wall. “She doesn’t mean to hurt you. She doesn’t get it because you won’t tell her.”

“There’s nothing to tell her.”

Lindsey lets out a snort. She doesn’t mean to, it’s just that everyone seems to know except these two idiots. “That’s not true, Son. You know it and so do I. You keeping it in isn’t going well. Obviously. You’re gonna have to talk to her sometime.”

“Yeah, I’ll just tell her to stop touching me. Should work great.”

“Son, that’s not what I mean. Tell her how you feel. Maybe she feels the same.”

Sonnett laughs, this painful laugh that makes it clear she has no intention of telling Kelley how she feels. Maybe ever. She’d rather battle these demons, suffer in silence until she snaps, then bury her feelings again and refuse to talk about it. Eventually, it will boil over again, and she’ll just deal with it then. Pretend nothing happened. Go back to normal for awhile. “There’s nothing else to tell. I’m going to sleep. Early shuttle to the airport. Night.”

Lindsey doesn’t want to leave, but she knows Sonnett well enough to know that there’s no way to get her to talk when she’s not ready to, so she gives her what Kelley couldn’t: respect. She closes the door softly behind her as she makes her way back out into the hall. She’s surprised to find Kelley sitting, back against the wall, across from Sonnett’s door.

“Is she ok?” she asks, and Lindsey can tell she’s genuinely worried.

She reaches out her hand and helps Kelley up. “Not really, no,” she admits, and Kelley looks absolutely broken-hearted at that news. Lindsey knows she means no harm, and she knows Kelley has no way of knowing what’s going on. She also knows it’s not her place, but her heart breaks too, for both of them. They’re so clueless about each other’s feelings. They’ve done this back of forth for years in lieu of anything else because neither can wrap her head around the fact that the other has real feelings, and while Kelley handles it better, unbothered by the prospect of Sonnett only being a friend and nothing more forever, Lindsey can’t help but think that these two knuckleheads she calls friends deserve a chance. They’re too good together to not take one, even if it is scary for them. It’s not breaking Sonnett’s confidence, she convinces herself. Sonnett didn’t tell her she couldn’t say anything. She grabs Kelley’s ear and drags her towards the stairwell, away from Sonnett’s door, because Kelley’s loud and she doesn’t want Sonnett hearing their conversation.

“Ow! Ow ow ow what are you doing?”

Lindsey lets go as the heavy door clangs behind them. “Kelley, she likes you. You can’t do stuff like that to her if you don’t mean it. It hurts her.”

Kelley just blinks at Lindsey, not understanding. It’s just a joke. It’s always been a joke. Nothing has changed, or it least it shouldn’t have. “She- she told you that?”

“No, of course not. There are things she won’t even talk to me about. But I can tell. I know you can, too. There’s no way you missed it, Kell.”

But there obviously _is_ a way she missed it, because she _missed_ it. They’re friends. Good friends. Who touch sometimes, but that doesn’t mean anything, right? Kelley’s just touchy. And Sonnett cringes, but she doesn’t really mean it, so it’s fun. She’s just so cuddly. And cute. Adorable, like a… like a… ok, so maybe she’s just adorable. Attractive, objectively speaking. Kinda hot. Sometimes. So maybe Kelley was getting more out of the teasing… and touching… than she cared to admit. There was comfort in their game, comfort that came without risk, which was what she needed.

Except maybe it was never _their_ game.

It was _her_ game.

And it wasn’t actually a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I don't get things done when I say I will.


	6. Til the End of Time (Emily+Kelley)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley has never been good at keeping her feelings to herself. She thinks she is, but she's not. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way I was supposed to write this back when DC had that snow storm. Wanna yell at me about how I don’t ever do anything on time? whydoiwrite on tumblr.

Kelley stretches out on her bed, restless and trying to get comfortable. She’s felt on edge all day. For a few days, honestly. There’s nothing left to clean in her house, nothing left to organize. Her spices are re-alphabetized. She even wiped down the baseboards – in every room – and at this point, she’s considering repainting them because it will provide a lengthy distraction. She just feels off in her own home, the place that’s always been a respite from whatever else was going on in her life, professionally or personally. She made it a point to learn how to drop that baggage at the door so that when she curls up on the sofa in front of the TV, her mind doesn’t drift to her problems. So that when she sits out on her balcony in the morning sun with a crossword and a coffee, she’s at peace. So that when she falls into her bed at night, she finds comfort amongst the many pillows and blankets that smell of her lavender detergent. She shouldn’t feel like this. There’s nothing different about gearing up for another preseason.

Nothing except the way Sonnett left camp, right after breakfast and without so much a glance in her direction.

Nothing except the knowledge Lindsey imparted on her, knowledge she has no idea how to deal with.

They’re friends.

But Lindsey seemed so certain about Sonnett’s feelings.

Kelley promised she’d leave her alone.

And she doesn’t want to hurt her. She never meant to. Never would have joked around with her if she had known. She knows how sensitive Sonnett is, better than almost anyone, which is why she should have _been_ better. She never would have done anything to upset her on purpose.

But she also doesn’t know if she _wants_ to leave Sonnett alone. She doesn’t know what she wants. And that’s part of the problem.

It’s Sonnett. (That’s the other part of the problem.)

It’s _Sonnett_.

She was just so mad that night that she stormed out of Rose’s room, madder than Kelley had seen her in a long time. It’s why Kelley didn’t chase her. She tried to check on her, but Lindsey stopped her. And now she’s left wondering.

Thinking.

Chewing on her nails.

Worrying.

Maybe she _should_ leave her alone. If she waits a few days, she’ll see Sonnett at training anyway. She _could_ wait.

Except she _can’t_ wait. A few days seems like an eternity.

**Miss Kelley** : Hey Son. Haven’t heard from you in a minute. When you movin in?

The dots appear and disappear over and over until Kelley realizes that she didn’t know until today the kind of power those three little dots carry: the power to drive her absolutely mad. And then there’s nothing. Silence is worse than Emily getting mad at her. Worse than the yelling. Worse than her walking away. Kelley breaks and texts her again.

 **Miss Kelley** : I can help. I don’t have any plans this week.

 **Sonnett** : I’m good.  
But thanks.

That’s _something_.

Kelley starts to type “You’re *so* good” with a winky face, but she’s learning and she’s trying, so she backspaces out of it. She starts to type “I’ll make it fun,” but that seems too suggestive as well, even though she just means that unpacking is always better with two people. She can’t even type the word _fine_ and feel ok about it. Everything she wants to say has to be analyzed now.

 **Miss Kelley** : I know you can manage on your own, but it won’t hurt to have some help. It’ll go faster. Give you more time to acclimate to the city. Sonnett, I won’t bother you, just let me help. It’s what friends do.

And that’s the problem. At this point, Sonnett doesn’t know if that – friends – makes things better or worse. But _it_ is a lot of boxes, more than she took to Orlando because she plans on staying for a long time this time, and she _really_ doesn’t want to do it by herself. Or bother Andi with it. There’s not really anyone else she feels comfortable asking.

 **Sonnett** : Fine. Tomorrow. Moving truck’s supposed to be here at 10. I’ll text you the address.

Nothing Kelley wants to say seems like what she can say anymore. “It’s a date,” seems so out of line now, and Kelley hates that she can’t be herself. But she hates more that she’s been hurting Sonnett all this time. She doesn’t even know how long.

 **Miss Kelley** : What are you doing tonight? Are you at your place already? You can’t sleep on the floor. Come spend the night here, and we’ll head over in the morning. Son, I have a spare bedroom.

This time, there’s no response at all. No dots. No acknowledgement of the offer made. And Kelley’s left wondering if there’s even a point in apologizing, or if that would just make things worse. Sonnett’s the kind of person who just likes to let things go as if they never happened. Maybe she should honor that.

*****

She can’t honor that.

It’s not for lack of trying. For two hours, she dutifully unpacks boxes and helps set up Sonnett’s apartment without a single innuendo about her kitchen island or the apron she finds, or the fact that she has yet to come across a box of sex toys or lingerie. She keeps her distance, steps aside to avoid brushing past her. Doesn’t touch her even though she wants to. Not a hug when she arrives. Not even when she realizes that want is almost a desperation. It’s never been so hard to not touch Sonnett before. Not that’s she’s actually ever tried, but she’s easily gone longer than this in Sonnett’s presence without touching her and never thought twice about it. There’s something different now. She’s still the same woman. Same bun. Same soft, gray eyes. And despite what went down between them, she still has the same crooked smile and hearty laugh. But the air is different between them. Kelley doesn’t know if Sonnett feels it, but she does. It’s heavy. Difficult to wade through. And a little hard to breathe.

“Hey, Son? I’m gonna run to the store and get some stuff for you, ok?”

“I’ll go later. After you leave, or tomorrow. Or you can just go home now. You helped a lot. Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem. Just finish up some more here, and I’ll be back in a little while. It’s supposed to snow tomorrow. You’re not gonna want to go out. Can you even drive in snow?”

Sonnett rolls her eyes. She’s not an idiot, she knows they’ll clear the streets. It’s not like she can’t survive for a few hours until that happens. But it gets Kelley out of her hair and allows the oxygen to flow freely again.

And it gives Kelley time to think.

This feeling between them, it’s not different in bad way anymore, but it is different… and it’s not Emily at all. It’s that Kelley doesn’t know what to do with the fact that for the first time ever, she has permission to let herself feel something she’s denied for years. To acknowledge that Emily is more than just wild and crazy, the funniest person she knows, more than just an absolute riot to be around. Kelley craves the energy she gives off. All of it. The warmth and kindness as much as the chaos. The quiet fear she tries to hide as much as the mischievousness. And most of all, the way she feels at peace in Emily’s presence. Like she can be herself. The self that’s scared too, not the one that always has to be on. Not the one that has to hide. Emily is the brightest spot in her day when they’re together. The surest beacon in her life.

_The one she cannot lose._

It feels too late. Like she should have realized all this a long time ago and now she’s missed her chance, because Emily seems good with the little bit of distance between them. And she did promise friendship and nothing more when she forced her role as move-in buddy on her fellow Georgian.

She doesn’t know what to do about keeping that promise.

But the weather does.

*****

“What is this?” Sonnett laughs as Kelley walks back through the door, arms laden with bags, and snowflakes covering every semi-vertical surface on her body, even her eyelashes.

“Snow, Sonnett,” Kelley is not amused, her teeth chattering. “Don’t brush it onto your-”

“Well why’d you bring it in with you then?”

Kelley glares at her and then eyes the bags she’s set down on Sonnett’s floor. “You have a mess to clean up. All this to put away. And there’s more in the car that needs to come in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you a third-floor apartment is not where it’s at.”

But Sonnett doesn’t answer her, just brushes a snowflake off the tip of Kelley’s nose. Then her eyelids, so gently, with her thumbs. This kind of softness that Sonnett doesn’t often show is the kind that leaves Kelley’s heart pumping hard enough to warm her throughout. And then she’s gone, out her front door without even throwing a coat on.

A few minutes later, Sonnett walks back in with the rest of the supplies Kelley decided she couldn’t live without. “Kell, it’s a fucking blizzard out there. You can’t go home.”

“I’m fine, Sonnett,” she says, a little more abruptly than she means to. It’s just that now she wants to brush the snowflakes off Emily’s nose and those high cheekbones, and she fucking can’t even though Emily just did the same for her. “I’m just gonna go now. I’m not far from here. It’s not bad yet. You’ve got enough to hold you over for a few days, and if you can’t go anywhere, at least you’ll have plenty of time to finish unpacking. See ya Monday!” she forces a smile into her voice for her own sake more than Sonnett’s.

“Kell!” Sonnett says sternly, and grabs her arm, hard enough to spin her around and knock the remaining snow off her puffy coat. “You can’t go. You can’t drive in this. You won’t even be able to see in front of your nose in the next five minutes if it keeps up.” Kelley blinks at her, not knowing what she’s supposed to do. “Stay.”

“Sonnett, I-”

“Just stay. If anything happened to you on the way home, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Hell, I wouldn’t…”

Emily's voice trails off and Kelley can’t stand it. “You wouldn’t what, Son?”

Her eyes plead with Kelley to drop it. Instead Kelley steps closer, her fingers trailing down the blonde's arm, like last time, when she was teasing her, but different. So much heavier this time. Just like the air between them still is. “I wouldn’t survive. That’s how much you mean to me. In case you were wondering,” she mumbles, looking away.

“You mean that much to me, too,” Kelley closes the remaining space between them, letting her fingers entangle with Sonnett’s, not stopping until they're close enough that she can feel the heat coming off her body.

“Yeah, ok.”

“I mean it, Son. Look at me.” Slowly, those grey eyes raise to meet hers, and they’re so uncertain, like she fears she’s ruined something, lost something forever, maybe. She has no idea that she never could. “Me, too.” It’s weak, Kelley knows. Pathetic. At her age, she should be able to do better, to say how she feels, but she can’t. It’s all she can do to admit to the younger woman that there’s something there. It’s hard for her, when sharing her feelings hasn’t been in the past, because this time, it feels like there’s a whole lot more at stake. And not just because they’re teammates. So for once in her life, she takes the easier path, and she hopes it’s enough.

Kelley watches Emily’s face as she repeats the words to herself, running them through her brain. Her brain knows what they mean, but it can’t stop her from doubting. And after a few seconds, it’s like she’s gone through every possibility, every scenario of what those two words could mean, and she’s only left with one possibility.

_The one._

But Kelley doesn’t want to overwhelm her with all these emotions. Emily knows now, that everything Kelley did, or at least everything she does from this point forward, isn’t teasing; it's real. “Come on,” she flashes her winning smile and grabs Emily’s hand, “we’re gonna make dinner. Then we’ll watch a movie and have some hot chocolate. I got marshmallows.”

“Vegan ones?”

“You bet.”

“Gross!” Emily scrunches up her nose in disgust.

“Shut up, you won’t be able to tell the difference,” Kelley assures her, starting to unpack the bags of groceries.

“And if I can?”

“Then I got whipped cream.”

“The kind I can spray in my mouth?” Emily asks excitedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation of using precious little of it in her beverage.

“No. Coconut whipped cream. That you can scoop into your hot chocolate.”

“Who passes up the spray whipped cream? You’re so… boring.”

“And you’re such a child. So what? It works for us. Leave me alone.”

“And then what after the movie and the boring whipped cream?” Emily wants to know as Kelley begins chopping vegetables.

“You’re the one who’s making me stay, you tell me. I can sleep out here on the couch, but I might freeze if the power goes out.”

“I have blankets, you know.”

“Body heat’s better, but if that’s what you want,” Kelley turns away from her, aware of what that statement will do.

_Welcome back, old Kelley._

That’s not what Sonnett wants. It’s what Sonnett _wants_ to want. What she _tells_ herself she wants. But what she really wants is Kelley next to her so she can look at her, all night long maybe. Long enough that she’s able to convince herself this is real. That this isn’t just another one of their snuggle sessions that means absolutely nothing. “Fine,” she relents.

“Fine?”

“Fine you can try out my new bed with me. I wouldn’t want you to freeze to death and have to explain to Richie how his $75,000 is now a block of ice on the couch in my apartment.”

“And draft picks,” Kelley reminds her.

“And draft picks whatever, I’m still worth almost double what you are. Let that sink in, sunshine,” Emily teases. “Maybe I’m just letting you in my bed to keep _me_ alive if the power goes out. Body heat being superior and all. There are rules though.”

But Kelley will take it, no matter what the rules are. She’ll take the teasing, too. Even about her age, which she hates when it comes from anyone else. “Ok.”

“Rule number one: no funny business.”

“Funny business?”

“Yes, Kell, I have standards.”

“Standards?” Since when does Emily Sonnett have standards?

“Requirements that need to be met before funny business takes place.” Kelley just stares at her, not fully understanding. “You have to take me on a date and you have to tell me how you feel about me first, and before you say you did, ‘me, too?’ That’s some bullshit and it doesn’t count.”

“Can we compromise?” Kelley asks.

“On funny business?”

“Yeah.”

“No. I asked for two things. You can handle that,” Emily says sternly.

It’s kinda hot, her not backing down, but she misunderstood what Kelley was getting at. “No, I meant on the term ‘funny business.’”

“You don’t like it?” Kelley shakes her head. “What do you want me to call it?”

“Sexy time? Sex. You could just say you’re not sleeping with me until I fulfill your requirements.”

“See?” Emily shouts with a huge smile.

“See what?”

“You’re old and boring,” she pokes Kelley in the ribs as she adds the vegetables to the bone broth..

“Funny business it is,” Kelley relents, even though she’s the one holding a knife in a somewhat threatening manner right now. But it’s mainly because she’d prefer not to be called old or boring anymore tonight. “Rule number 2?”

“I sleep in a cocoon.”

“A cocoon?”

“Are you just gonna repeat everything I say?”

“Like a fort?”

“No.”

“Like a tent?”

“No. Don’t you know what a cocoon is? Well, whatever, you’ll see. It’s why Lindsey refuses to sleep with me in the winter. Don’t like it, there’s always the couch. No complaining.”

Kelley tells herself she wouldn’t dream of complaining if she gets to wrap her arms around this woman and let the way she feels about her hopefully passively transmit from her heart to Emily’s overnight.

She can’t help but complain.

“Do we get a breathing hole?” Kelley asks, immediately feeling suffocated by Emily’s cocoon. She’s got them completely tucked in, around their feet, under their bodies, tightly over their heads. There’s no moving. Hell, there’s no air. This feels more like mummification than a cocoon, Kelley thinks. Cocoons are supposed to allow for growth, for a caterpillar to transform into a butterfly. There’s no room to move here. She might die after all.

“Do caterpillars get a breathing hole?” Sonnett asks, very seriously.

Actually, Kelley doesn’t know the answer to that, not for sure, but she can assume by the fact that Sonnett asks the question, the answer is no and she’s not getting a breathing hole. So she focuses on how this is exactly what she wanted – minus the fact that their faces are covered and she might sweat to death if she doesn’t suffocate first. She wanted Emily’s head using her bicep as a pillow, Emily’s breath hot and steady against her neck, Emily’s hand resting lightly on her stomach. And she wanted to hold the younger woman tightly enough that it would convince her she’d never let go. In case she was still wondering. So in that sense, mission accomplished, she supposes.

“If you hate it, you can uncover and tuck me in. You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” Emily interrupts her thoughts.

“No, Em. This is perfect,” Kelley lies, but within a few minutes, she’s not sure if it’s a lie anymore.

“Are you going to kiss me? Because I’m about to fall asleep,” she yawns, and Kelley doesn’t know if it’s for effect or not, “so this is kinda your chance.” There, in the safety of her cocoon, where it feels like the whole world is shut out – their friends, their job, their previous issues – where Kelley can’t see her to know if she’s scared or not, Emily finds the courage to ask. Because this is her spot. It’s a new bed, but it’s the same blanket that she took to college. The same blanket that she’d wrap herself up in after a bad game or bad news or a bad… trade. A trade that maybe in retrospect is working out exactly how it was supposed to, because she’s here and Kelley’s here and it’s all she’s ever wanted and never thought would happen.

Emily’s boldness should surprise Kelley. Except as she lays there, mouth slightly agape because she doesn’t know what to do, she realizes it isn’t surprising at all. Why _shouldn’t_ Emily be daring? She knows now, without Kelley really even saying it, how Kelley feels. Emily went easy on her. Let her off the hook with a simple touch and a look. She let Kelley communicate the way she knows best – non-verbally. When everyone else has always forced her to speak before she was ready, Emily looked into her eyes, her soul, understood, and let her be.

Kelley wants to take this slower than she’s ever taken anything in her entire life. To make it perfect, not just their first kiss, but _them_. She wants to do right by this woman tonight and every night. Every morning, every practice, every bus ride, every date, every day. Because she deserves it. She deserves good and she especially deserves easy after everything she’s been though, including the things Kelley put her through.

She doesn’t even have to crane her neck forward really to meet Emily’s lips, they’re already so close. Tipping her chin up slightly is enough to suffice. And there, she closes her eyes and places a lingering kiss on Emily’s lips. No tongue. No teeth accidentally clashing in the dark. No diving back in for more even though she wants to learn everything about Emily’s lips and mouth, what she likes, what makes her heartbeat quicken, what makes her moan, what drives her wild enough that she loses herself completely. There’s so much she wants to know, but unlike every other first kiss she’s had, she doesn’t feel rushed to learn it all in one night. With Emily, she can take her time. It’s like she knows the younger woman isn’t going anywhere. The knowledge makes her heart feel at peace, and it dawns on her that that’s why she’s _always_ felt at peace around Emily. Neither one of them was ever going to go anywhere. Kelley leaves her thumb on Emily’s cheek for a few seconds, not ready to break that contact even though their lips have separated. Eyes adjusted to the dark, she stares at Emily, whose lips are barely parted like she’s not done with the kiss, and then she brushes her thumb across those lips, feeling them part more. “Thank you.”

Emily’s eyes flutter open, and Kelley sees the way her brow furrows just a bit in confusion.

“For letting me stay,” she explains, even though that’s not what she wants to say.

She wants to say:

For loving me enough to care about me potentially getting in a wreck on the way home. Even if you're not in love with me yet.

For giving me another chance. For forgiving all of my stupidity. _All_ of it.

For being the brave one, even though she shouldn’t have had to be.

For trusting her. After all that, enough to be herself, open and honest and matter-of-fact. For showing Kelley who she is and what she wants, and basically telling Kelley that she can take it or leave it. That matters to the brunette because she knows how scary it must be for Emily to risked so much.

For letting Kelley love her, even though she can’t say it yet. Because she is the most patient person Kelley knows. And the most important person to her.

*****

Kelley sneaks up behind Sonnett in the change room. A new change room that they can now call _theirs_. They’re the last two left after the photo shoots, Emily having to wait around for Kelley to finish her individual ones so they could take some together to promote the Spirit though a National Team focus. “You look cute in navy,” she stretches up to whisper in her ear as her hand falls firmly to the taller woman’s hip. It’s not enough to keep her from turning around, but it’s enough to tell her that Kelley doesn’t want her to. Not yet.

“You said I looked cute in purple. Which one is it? Do I just look good in every color?”

“Maybe you do,” Kelley lets her lips linger on Sonnett’s ear for a few more seconds before she brushes them down along her neck, stopping at her shoulder. “Maybe I just like finding reasons to compliment you. Either way, I’m really glad we’re wearing the same color now.” Kelley releases Sonnett’s hip from the vice grip she had on it, but leaves her hand there. “Sonnett, turn around.” She doesn’t move, and Kelley taps on her hip with her middle finger. “Look at me.” Sonnett does, now so close to her that it’s hard to even see her clearly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Kelley bites her lip. She’s being purposefully hard to read right now, Kelley knows this, but she has no intention of letting it derail her. “Fine. Friday night,” she says definitively. “Celebrate the end of our first week with our new team.”

“Are you picking me up?”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Is it a date?” the blonde raises an eyebrow questioningly

“Do you want it to be a date?” Sonnett shrugs noncommittally, because that’s what Kelley deserves. As cute as Kelley thinks her “answer a question with a question game” is, she wants Kelley to be the one who has to pull the trigger and label what it is she’s after. “Yes, it’s a date.”

“Then I want you to pick me up. Where are we going?”

“You pick.”

“Lol. As if,” Emily looks at her skeptically. “You probably already have reservations somewhere. Probably made them the morning you woke up in my bed. Unless you waited til you left. But that’s unlikely. Either way, you’ve already decided where we’re going.”

Kelley doesn’t laugh, and _that_ more than her words, tells Emily this is important to her. “I didn’t even know if you’d say yes. But I mean it, Son. I want you to pick.”

“I don’t live here. I’m sure you’d be better at this...”

But Kelley ignores her. “Somewhere you’ve been thinking about going. I know you. I know you’ve been reading up on the spots all the cool kids go to. Pick a place that caught your eye.”

“You caught my eye,” Sonnett deadpans.

It’s so smooth that catches Kelley by surprise, literally and figuratively, as she actually takes a small, stumbly step back. “You- you want me to cook for you?”

“Maybe just dessert?” Sonnett backtracks.

“Are you coming home with me after dinner?”

“Sure, but no funny business. This date only fulfills half of my requirements for funny business.”

“I like you,” Kelley quietly admits. As if Emily didn’t already know that. She wants to kick herself for not doing better.

“You’re really going to tell me that in our change room? Must _really_ want to get me in your bed.”

“I do,” Kelley cups her face with one hand, her fingers playing lightly over Emily’s jaw. “I want you in my Stanford hoodie and my number 5 shorts. I want you to make us a cocoon again and I want to listen to you breathe when you sleep because it makes me sleep better.” She means all that too. It's all she wants.

“You didn’t hate it?” Emily sounds surprised.

“I did. But I like you. And I’m not telling you because I want anything. I’m telling you because I don’t want you to doubt it. I don’t want you second-guessing this and thinking it isn’t a two-way street. Because it is.”

“You’re not very good with words, are you?”

“What are you talking about? That was amazing.”

“But it was so hard for you to just tell me that you like me.”

“It’s scary, Sonnett. This – dating a teammate – it’s not easy.”

“I scare you?” Emily teases, wiggling her eyebrows and dropping her arms around Kelley’s neck. “I scare you,” she repeats, prouder the second time as it sinks it.

“I didn’t say th-” But Emily cuts her off with a kiss, one that lasts a little longer and involves just a flick of her tongue across Kelley’s lips. One that makes Kelley think she’s going to have a really hard time waiting until Friday for that date.

* * *

“Did you have an awful time tonight?” Kelley asks as they make their way out the front entrance of the Watergate and into the cool night air. “I feel bad that I dragged you here.”

“Comes with the territory. I’m your forever date. Stuck with you. Or you’re stuck with me, maybe. Besides,” she adds, slipping her hand around Kelley’s, “you know I always have a good time with you, no matter what we’re doing. Even fancy runway events for your dumb brand’s spring line. You’re my good time til the end of time.”

Kelley hands the ticket to the valet and leans against Emily’s shoulder. “Last month at my grandma’s 90th birthday party? A good time?”

“Mmhmm.”

“In a few weeks at my parents’ 40th? That seems like it’s going to be really boring.” Emily just kisses her forehead. “What about at Erin’s wedding?” Kelley’s asking questions now to steer the conversation where she wants it to go so she can gauge Emily’s reaction.

“Fun, Kell.”

“What about our wedding?” Emily pulls away to look at her. “Whenever it is, no pressure.”

“Are you planning it?”

“Of course,” Kelley scoffs, as if any other possibility exists.

“Then it’ll be a great time,” Emily assures her, kissing her hand as their car is pulled up to the curb. “But I want a joint bachelorette party because I don’t want to miss out on any of your fun in case it’s more fun than my fun.”

“Home?” Kelley asks as they slide in side by side.

“Um… do you think we could go to that diner?”

“What diner?” Kelley asks, even though she knows.

They haven’t been there in a while, but as soon as Emily asks, she remembers. The one near her old place, that they skipped off to in the middle of the night after a marathon session in bed, when Kelley just wanted to fall asleep against the blonde’s chest. Emily tempted her to put clothes back on with the offer of a sweet treat. That pouty face that Kelley could never say no to might have had something to do with it, too. So she found the woman pie and coffee just before four in the morning, and they sat in a corner booth at a diner Kelley had never been to, never would have even tried if it weren’t for Emily, sharing it and laughing, and realizing their love was different than every love they had had before. Emily was sure when Kelley took a sip of her too-hot coffee, even after she had been warned to wait, and burned her tongue. The stubborn woman sitting beside her brought her the kind of joy and laughter at small things she had never dared dream. That kind of happiness wasn’t real in her limited view of the world, a world that didn’t allow much room for real, lasting same-sex relationships even though she was around them daily. A love that deep that it could last forever didn't seem attainable for her until Kelley. She wanted to spend the rest of her life laughing, and she wanted to laugh with Kelley, her forever teammate, her best friend. And Kelley realized exactly how Emily felt as Emily spastically, but softly scratched along the top of her bare thigh, under the table as they waited for the waitress to return. She was still a bundle of nerves even though they had been dating for awhile, still this mixture of confident enough to touch her and unsure enough to _need_ to touch her, always seeking Kelley out to self-soothe. It was funny how quickly Emily had turned to her once she knew she could.

Kind of like she is now, just more comfortable, edging closer and closer to the hem of Kelley’s dress which rode up as she sat down in the driver’s seat. She knew back then she would give up just about anything to never lose that touch; she knows it still.

“The one with the coconut cream pie,” Emily grins as goosebumps spread over Kelley’s thigh. She knows she's going to get her way.

“Baby, why are you looking at a menu?” Kelley whines as she curls into Emily’s side in a booth at the back.

“I’m hungry.”

“We had dinner at the UnderArmour event.”

“Um, I didn’t really like it.”

“You love Indian.”

“I love it when you make it. I didn’t like this. And I didn’t even get dessert because that guy,” Emily flails her arm around like that will help her remember or will help Kelley get the point.

“Steve.”

“Steve. Steve kept trying to talk to me about leaving adidas and signing with UnderArmour and I just wanted the lava cake.”

“And now you’re settling for coconut cream pie?”

“And a breakfast platter. With a chicken fried steak.”

“Baby,” Kelley grumbles because this is going to take way longer than she wants it to. But it’s no use, and she’s aware of this.

“You know how I knew that you loved me?” Emily asks, mouth full of the pie she ordered first because she knew it would come out quicker. Kelley’s about to say that yes she knows, because she slipped up and said it, but Emily doesn’t wait for an answer. “You never once tried to pull any of your ‘this is where I want to go so this is where we’re going,’ bullshit when it was just the two of us. Like right now. You don’t want to be here, and yet here we are.” Emily slides her hand between Kelley’s legs, wrapping her fingertips around her thigh. “Because you love me.”

“But that means you knew…” Kelley’s voice trails off as their waitress stops by with a pot of coffee.

 _Before_ Kelley said it. 

Emily covers Kelley’s mug the second the waitress finishes pouring because she knows it’s the only way to stop her from burning her tongue. Every time. “Yep. Shouldn’t have pursued me so hard. Gave yourself away. You _loved_ me.”

Emily knew as soon as Kelley asked her out on a date.

* * *

She came home with Kelley after their first date, and Kelley made her brownies – with eggs so they’d be fudgier than her vegan brownies – and she bought a pint of real ice cream for them, not her oat milk ice cream, because she knew Emily would like it better. But halfway through dessert, their bowls ended up on the coffee table, and Kelley ended up in her lap, sharing chocolatey kisses and curious hands. Emily leaned back with a laugh as Kelley’s hair tickled her nose for the tenth time, and used the tie on her own wrist to twist the brunette’s thick locks up into a messy bun.

Kelley realized then she could look at Emily looking at her like that forever. She could so easily tell her she was in love with her. Instead, she started kissing her again.

“Better,” she mumbled against Kelley’s lips. 

But then her lips moved lower, to Kelley’s neck, and her hands climbed up Kelley’s sides over the cashmere sweater she was still wearing, not having bothered to change when they got back. Finally…finally, Emily’s fingertips were almost on her breasts when Kelley couldn’t keep it in any longer. She would have been better off letting out the moan that almost slipped past her lips before she bit down. Would have been better begging for Emily to touch her nipples, peaking though the soft, thick material. Instead, something much more dangerous came out. “I love you so much, Em. I just wanna fuck you.” And then she panicked, trying to scramble off Emily’s lap and apologizing over and over, and Emily pulled her right back down and held her behind the knees, gently enough that she could get away if she was really desperate too, and firmly enough that Kelley should have known Emily didn’t want her to go anywhere. She could have freaked out, like Kelley was. She almost burst out into loud, uncontrollable laughter, but she held it in and kept a straight face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry, Em,” Kelley muttered, burying her face against Emily’s neck to hide the tears burning her eyes.

“Sorry about telling me you love me or that you want to fuck me?” Emily asked, trying to hide the pure joy in her voice. She could do _that_ to Kelley O’Hara, get her to bare her soul and leave her a bumbling mess.

But the truth was, Kelley wasn’t sorry about either thing she said, so she didn’t know how to answer.

“You said you don’t know where that came from, but I think it came from this,” Emily continued, thumbs finally rolling over Kelley’s nipples. Kelley started trembling and Emily knew just how to calm her. “I know you do,” she said softly in Kelley’s ear, all the smugness gone even though she had earned the right to be.

Kelley sat up, looking down at her with expectant eyes, almost unbelieving that she hadn’t ruined things. Her lips moved, but words failed her, as she tried to discern what Emily meant when she said she _knew_.

“Both,” Emily framed her face, sure of what Kelley was asking without ever asking. “And… me, too.”

* * *

“I wasn’t pursuing you…” Kelley lets out a huff. “Whatever.”

Emily eyeballs her, and Kelley doesn’t know if she knows. If the beautiful woman still holding onto her thigh knows she fell in love with her long before that night even. She didn’t admit it to herself until she was roaming the aisles of Target, filling a cart with everything she could think of to stock Emily’s fridge and pantry and medicine cabinet and bathroom drawers, but she had really fallen in love before that. It’s not something she needs to admit to aloud tonight. The young blonde is already fully aware that she has Kelley wrapped around her little finger; no point in letting her know just how deep those feeling ran. No point in giving Emily another reason to tease her.

“I love you,” Emily manages to get out through her chewing, sensing Kelley’s discomfort.

“Will you love me when I retire and I’m home all day to annoy you?”

“I dunno. Those marriage vows you want me to say say sickness and heath, richer or poorer. And you will be poorer but they don’t say a damn thing about having to put up with your annoying ass.”

Kelley blushes at how Emily doesn’t shy away from this talk of marriage, and Emily leans over to give her a syrupy kiss on the lips. “Will you love me when I have stretch marks?”

“Depends on if they’re from chocolate or our babies.”

Kelley punches her arm.

“Ow! Hey, I’m kidding. I’ll kiss every single one of them.”

“Will you love me when I’m old and gray?”

“You’re already old.”

“You know, there will be exactly zero funny business if you keep this up,” Kelley shoots back, but she knows that’s not true. They both do. “Will you tell me if there’s ever a point in our lives when you’re not having a good time?” she hums quietly, shyly almost. She shouldn’t worry, it’s not like Emily has ever hinted that she isn’t completely happy.

“Well when you make me dust the ceiling fans, it’s not a good time. Two-out-of-ten definitely would not recommend. But the rest of our life is a 15-out-of-10, so it averages out. I’m telling you, babe,” she brushes her thumb along Kelley’s soft thigh, “I have had the best few years of my life with you. And I’d love to spend the rest of it right by your side, ok?”

“Can you please hurry and finish?” Kelley nuzzles closer to her again. “Because what I’d love,” pauses as the waitress stops by to check on them, but doesn’t bother peeling herself away from Emily’s side. That’s significant. Just a few years ago, in this same spot, they both would have been too self-conscious to allow anyone to see them in love like this, especially a stranger. But now, even after three years, their love is so strong that they don’t care who knows, not enough to stay away from each other at least. “What I’d love,” she starts again, “is to get you home. Make up for you having to get all dressed up and schmooze with people tonight. Show you a _real_ good time.”

“Gonna be too full,” Emily leans back with a sigh, rubbing her belly. “But lucky for you, you live with me and you can show me a good time when you wake me up tomorrow morning.”

“Whatever,” Kelley rolls her eyes. “You live with _me_. I don’t live with you.” The distinction stopped mattering to her long ago, but it won’t stop her from pointing it out tonight, when she lost out to a chicken fried steak and a piece of pie.


	7. Game Time (Kelley+Lindsey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley helps Lindsey pick out a photo for her Footy Day post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank the three tumblr anons who 1) pointed out Lindsey's peach in her Footy Day x3 post because I am failing at gay and didn't notice, 2) called her a bulldozer, and 3) asked if I think Kelley rewards her for assists or only goals. The answer is obviously both, Kelley is a generous individual.
> 
> Also, not the John Mayer version of Your Body is a Wonderland, the Taylor Acorn version with David Ryan because I have good taste.

_We got this afternoon,  
You got this room for two,  
One thing I’ve left to do,  
Discover me, discovering you._

_And if you want love, we’ll make it,  
We’ll swim in the deep sea, of blankets,  
And take all your big plans, and break ‘em,  
This is bound to be a while.  
Your body is a wonderland._

“This one.”

Kelley holds her phone over her head and Lindsey loosely circles her wrist to angle it so she can see what’s on the screen. Apparently, Kelley’s decided to help her narrow down her search for the perfect footy day photo, and Lindsey’s here for it. For Kelley taking enough interest in what she’s doing to involve herself in it. For the two of them spending the afternoon in her bed in nothing but sports bras and shorts because the Florida winter has been so mild during this camp. For Kelley’s head in her lap and for her perfect abs that Lindsey’s been drumming the fingers of one hand on absentmindedly while she scrolls through photos with the other. For the green eyes looking up at her now. For all of this. These afternoons post-training or post- pre-game walk that roll on by in an easy silence, just the two of them. It’s going to be over too soon, both flying out of Florida tomorrow morning and back to their markets, but these quiet afternoons are where they’ve forged a bond, unlike the one they had before. Unbreakable, which it has been for a long while, but now multifaceted and more profound, their immersion in each other complete. Lindsey still doesn’t quite understand it, how what they have has been so uncomplicated ever since they started spending time together again. But the longer it goes on, the more time she spends tentatively exploring Kelley’s body with her hands and her lips, the less important the _why_ seems. They just _are_. They’re happy – _she’s_ happy, for the first time in as long as she can remember – and that’s all that matters. Kelley feels right. That photo she picked out, on the other hand, does not. “No. That one’s in a training top.”

“So?” Kelley scrunches up her face at the implication, “I’m going to post one of me in a training top.”

Lindsey can’t help but stop for a second and smile to herself. It’s not like Kelley is the best about consistently acknowledging game days on her social media. She probably never will be, her brain so often running a mile a minute in several directions, but it’s cute that she’s been thinking about it today, and Lindsey credits herself with that. She also can’t help but tease the older woman. “That’s because all you have are photos in training tops, loser,” she jokes, dropping Kelley’s wrist and brushing her nails along the her girlfriend’s ribs because she knows it tickles.

“Hey now,” Kelley growls, rolling away, but she doesn’t get far before Lindsey drags her back, up against the pillows at the head of the bed beside her.

“I’m kidding,” she leans over to press her lips into Kelley’s shoulder and lets them linger. “I’m sorry,” she continues, softer and mumbly, before unlocking her phone again and returning to the very important task at hand. “I’m gonna post this one from the Canada game. See how awesome I look getting out of that 1v2? In my _jersey_ ,” she can’t help but add as she shows Kelley her phone.

She _does_ look awesome. She always does, Kelley thinks. And this one _is_ a great shot of her footwork to get out of pressure, one of her skills so often overlooked because she shares a midfield with Rose’s magic, and because Lindsey’s size means people only ever see her for her brute strength. And sure, she ended up bulldozing through someone less than ten seconds later, but that’s not the point. It may be a good photo, but Kelley has had her mind set on a better one since Lindsey started blabbering on and on about the importance of her match-day post.

Even that’s not the point right now though; a little payback is. She may be The Great Horan, she may be the woman Kelley cannot look away from as she stares out the window in the late afternoons, sipping an iced coffee, but she's not going to get away with giving the older woman a hard time. At least not that easily.

“Kell. Kell, c’mon. Don’t,” Lindsey whines as this time, Kelley does make it all the way out of bed. “Baby, come back.” But the brunette ignores her, instead gathering her clothes off the floor and making sure to leave Lindsey with a great view of something she’s not getting. Not today, anyway. Probably. “Kell, baby, don’t do this.”

“You wanna talk shit, Horan? Go ahead and talk shit. Talk all the shit you want.”

“You’re playing tonight. You can’t be mad anymore.”

“Thirty minutes.” Kelley doesn’t let the poutiness show on her face, but she can’t hide it in her voice.

“Baby, it’s just precautionary. You know the only thing that matters is having you healthy for Tokyo.” And she adds for good measure, just in case it helps, “I’m not starting tonight.”

Kelley pulls her shirt back on over her head. “Lemme know if it was worth it,” she throws over her shoulder, ignoring Lindsey’s logic. There’s a part of her that’s glad to be getting any minutes this tournament, but she’s also her father’s daughter, and anything less than 90 is never good enough. That raw determination is what allowed her to soar every bit as high as her mind could dream. And it’s why she was able to sit with Lindsey and wait, patiently and just outside of the foreground, until the younger woman was ready, because she knew. Knew in the same way she never doubted she would eventually find a way into the starting XI of the best team in the world. Knew that the chemistry they shared in every playful touch on the practice pitch and every familiar touch off was because a vein of love ran deep from one soul to the other.

Lindsey sits up on the end of the bed and tugs Kelley into her lap, talking into her now clothed shoulder. “It’s not worth it.”

“What was that?” Kelley asks, even she knows damn well what Lindsey said.

“It’s not worth it,” Lindsey repeats louder as she nuzzles the back of Kelley’s neck. “My shit-talking. So not worth it.”

“No?” Kelley smirks, turning around to straddle her girlfriend. “Are you sure? Might as well say something about my age. My body breaking down. My-”

“Your body is flawless,” Lindsey interrupts, settling her hands on Kelley’s hips. “Impeccable, really.”

Yeah, that’s more like it.

It’s a good enough recovery that Kelley thinks maybe Lindsey deserves for the kiss she places on her cheek to move to her perfect, sugary lips, her hot breath pinkening up that Florida sun-kissed skin as she takes her time getting there. It’s languid and comfortable until it’s not. Until Lindsey’s hand is under her shirt, slowly walking her fingers up each of Kelley’s vertebrae, and Kelley can’t help but lean into her. As they gradually fall back into the mattress, Lindsey’s solid core unbreaking, there’s no way of knowing if the cause is Kelley pushing or Lindsey pulling, in the same way that there was no determining who initiated their first kiss or remembering whose hands shakily gripped the hem of a shirt, asking for permission the first time. By the time they’re horizontal, Kelley’s shirt is off again, Lindsey’s sports bra has been thrown behind a piece of furniture, and it doesn’t matter who got them there anymore.

Kelley takes her time like she always does, tracing the lines of Lindsey’s body with her lips. The way she slightly brushes over Lindsey’s skin drives the blonde crazy, but it’s also a sure signal that she appreciates the wonder that is the woman beneath her. She loves the way Lindsey arches off the bed when she finally makes her way down to her breasts, sucking in one nipple as she rolls the other between her thumb and index finger. She loves the little gasps that escape Lindsey’s lips as she kisses her way down her toned stomach, nowhere near touching her somewhere Kelley deems worthy of that kind of reaction. How her legs fall open for her revealing the shimmery arousal on her inner thighs. Kelley would be remiss if she didn’t focus the majority of her efforts there, her favorite spot, where Lindsey is most responsive, the same nerve clusters that register the pain of a pull picking up on barely-there touches. And where she is softest when relaxed. She kisses all around Lindsey’s lips, picking up a hint of her taste, and then runs her tongue through her slit once.

“I just think I have a better photo in mind,” Kelley hums against Lindsey’s clit, before kissing it lightly.

“Kelley. Stop.”

“Stop?” Kelley picks her head up and rests her chin on her girlfriend so she can look at her innocently from under her eyelashes.

“Stop stopping.” Lindsey says seriously. She hasn’t wanted to murder someone in a long time, she realizes, but right now, it kinda feels like she could.

“Look at the photo.” Kelley runs her tongue through Lindsey’s folds again and all around her clit, but avoids making contact with the hardened bud, frustrating Lindsey further.

“Nooooo,” Lindsey moans loudly. Kelley stops again. “Later. I promise I will,” she begs, tangling her fingers in Kelley’s hair in a last-ditch effort to get what she wants.

Instead, she gets a rather annoying “Now,” from the brunette.

“Oh my God, fine!” Lindsey groans, knowing she’s not going to get what she wants until Kelley feels heard. “Show me.”

“Oh, goodie!” Kelley scoots up on her body with a satisfied smile and leans across to grab her phone off the nightstand. She drops a quick kiss on Lindsey’s cheek before settling into the crook of her arm and unlocking her phone. “This one,” her smile grows as she clicks back into her photos where she saved it.

“You already showed me that one,” Lindsey complains.

“Yeah, but you didn’t look,” Kelley throws her leg over Lindsey’s body, just in case she was thinking about moving elsewhere and not looking. “ _Look_.”

“I _am_ looking,” Lindsey voice rises in pitch as Kelley rubs her smooth leg over her body, but she’s not looking. She’s trailing her fingers along the line between Kelley’s quad and hamstring, marveling at the definition that exists even when she’s mostly relaxed. It’s a little hard to breathe, a little bit too hot in the room for Lindsey to focus. But Kelley draws her attention back where she wants it, unceremoniously shoving her phone in Lindsey’s face and forcing her to look. “My form is good. But I have a double chin. I’m not posting it.”

“Pfft! You’re looking at the wrong thing. Your ass. Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your ass look so good. I mean, I have,” she backtracks, “right here, in this bed, a bunch of times. It’s so much better when you’re not wearing shorts. Best ass I’ve ever had my hands on. All-time fave. But you know what I mean. In a photo. This is the best your ass has ever looked in a photo.”

Lindsey can’t help but blush at those words that started off so confidently and turned into a rambling mess. Whether Kelley means that or not, Lindsey doesn’t know and doesn’t care. Because with all of Kelley’s past, she’s here _now_ , choosing Lindsey _now_. And Lindsey knows, deep down and when she thinks about it, that Kelley’s insanely attracted to her. She’s not stupid; she sees how the older woman looks at her, with adoration that's palpable even from across a room, even when she’s supposed to be focused on something else. Finds ways to touch her in bed even when they still have clothes on that remind her she’s sexy, and reasons to touch her lying in the grass playing with Charlie in ways that remind her this is real. Is so obviously turned on by her in bed, the evidence left on Lindsey’s thigh or fingers. But hearing Kelley say it aloud is more powerful than assuming it as her hands wander in the dark.

Or today, in the light apparently.

It’s still new, this thing between them, but it feels different already. She trusts it, whatever it is, because it’s Kelley, and she’s always known she could trust Kelley with her life. She trusts it even though she’s been conditioned to not trust anyone. But this is special, of that she’s sure, because Kelley can’t take her eyes off her, and mixed with the want in equal proportions is love.

“It’s-”

“It’s the one for your insta today. You look fucking hot,” Kelley interrupts, the last words whispered in Lindsey’s ear in a way that makes her shiver.

Lindsey takes a deep steadying breath and lets it out slowly, reaching for her own phone, rolling her eyes as she turns back to see Kelley smirking. Maybe this woman sees her flaws, but if she does, she sees past them, and unintentionally, she’s teaching Lindsey to. “Fine,” she grumbles, but it’s just for effect ands she can’t keep it up for long, not with Kelley humming her approval into her neck and being the reason why the goosebumps reappear across her exposed skin. It takes her longer that it should, as Kelley licks along the muscles of her neck, now straining with the desire coursing through her body. “Posted,” she manages to choke out. “Now will you go back to what you were doing? Please?”

“No,” Kelley says, and she stops abruptly, separating her lips from Lindsey's tanned skin.

“What do you mean no?” Lindsey doesn’t even bother with trying to cover up the desperation in her voice because she is desperate. Desperately wet and she can feel the pulsating through her core. She needs Kelley inside of her.

“No sex on game days,” Kelley replies matter-of-factly, like Lindsey should know this rule.

“No sex on game days?” she screeches. “What the fuck, Kell? We’ve had sex every game day.”

“We’ve had sex after game day every game day,” the older woman points out.

“What is the difference? There’s no difference. Kell, I need- ”

But Kelley cuts her off. She doesn’t want to hear what Lindsey needs. Well, she wants to, but she knows if she does then she won’t be able to stop herself from giving the gorgeous woman looking up at her in near-anguish exactly what she’s asked for. “If I reward you _before_ you play, what motivation will you have to kick ass out there tonight?”

 _What motivation will she have? What motivation?_ Only the motivation to win. To secure a spot on a roster of 18. To silence the critics. To earn a starting role. To reach that milestone of 50 goals, which has been slow-going. To be a standout in a star-studded midfield. To win the Ballon d’Or. It’s ridiculous. But it’s so Kelley. “Well what were you doing then?” she demands to know.

“Giving you a preview of what you’ll get tonight if you get back on the scoresheet. Besides, you promised Rose you’d do agility to her before we leave. You should probably get going.”

“I didn’t promise I’d do agility with her, I promised I’d go outside and watch her. That’s not the same.” And right now, as far as Lindsey is concerned, Rose can do her damn agility by herself. Or she can drag Sonnett with her if she needs an audience, because what Lindsey needs to work into her pre-game routine right now is more pressing, as far as she’s concerned.

“A promise is a promise, Linds.”

“But we have time. It’s early still. Baby, you said you’d spend all afternoon with me,” Lindsey whines.

“I have. Most of it anyway. But I promised Alex I’d go help her with another Charlie TikTok.”

Lindsey lets out an exasperated huff that Kelley laughs at because it sounds so exaggerated, but to Lindsey, it’s not exaggerated at all; it’s exactly how she feels. “Was that ‘preview,’” she rolls her eyes and uses air quotes, “for a goal or an assist?”

“Either, baby. Have a hand in our goals, and I’ll show you what these hands can do,” Kelley wiggles her eyebrows even though Lindsey already knows exactly what those hands can do. “Or a foot,” Kelley continues. “A thigh,” she drags her fingertips lightly over Lindsey’s groin. “Your chest,” she smiles before twisting her tongue around one pert, pink nipple. “Your moneymaker,” she leans forward and gives Lindsey a sweet peck on her forehead. “I’m not picky, I just want people to see you.”

Lindsey can’t help but blush again, not because of the places Kelley has touched her, the barely-there fingers that make her impossibly wetter or her hot, talented tongue, but because of those words. Kelley is picky – annoyingly so to a point where it sometimes seems she’s impossible to satisfy – but she wants for Lindsey everything Lindsey wants for herself.

That’s love.

And then Kelley’s up and out of bed, throwing her clothes back on and heading for the door. “Score me a golazo,” she calls over her shoulder. And all Lindsey can do is fall back into the bed stare at the ceiling, and let out sigh that’s more content and less frustrated than it should be given the circumstances.

“I might be too sexually frustrated to,” Lindsey shouts back as Kelley disappears, “and it’s gonna be all your fault if I don’t!”

* * *

Finally back in her room, their clothes discarded haphazardly on the floor, she watches Kelley crawl up the towards where she’s leaning against the headboard. Her brown hair is still down and barely dry from her post-game shower, and now a little frizzy. It falls forward as she moves, mostly covering her face, but she catches a glimpse of Kelley’s eyes, so full of lust. She knows what’s coming, but the knowledge does nothing to stop the anticipation from burning low in her stomach. This woman wants to fuck her, probably senseless, until she doesn’t remember who they played or how many minutes she saw, what time her flight leaves, or how much it’s going to hurt not getting to see her for months. And it should be all she wants, all anyone could ever want, to look down on the verge of orgasm and find Kelley O’Hara putting her lung capacity to use between her legs.

“Three games. Three assists. Three wishes.” Kelley pauses between each phrase in the same way she moves, making the words and movements slow and deliberate, and that fire burning in Lindsey’s stomach moves higher into her chest.

“I don’t have any wishes,” she says hoarsely, and it’s true; she doesn’t, not when it comes to Kelley, at least.

“Requests, maybe?” Kelley yawns and settles into Lindsey’s lap as Lindsey slides down under her. She raises her eyes, slowly from Lindsey’s stomach to her breasts, to meet the gray ones before her. “I owe you three of them.” She doesn’t. She’s paid up each time, after the previous two assists.

“Just one,” Lindsey says softly, pulling Kelley into her.

Kelley pushes herself back up on Lindsey’s chest and cocks a curious eyebrow at her. “Name it.”

“Tell me about my ass again,” Lindsey giggles as she flips them. It’s not really her request, but it’s worth it to see the way Kelley’s eyes light up and to feel her slight fingers already sinking into the muscles.

“It’s the nicest ass in the whole wide world. And it’s mine,” Kelley smiles, running her hands through Lindsey’s hair.

“All of this is yours,” Lindsey whispers, parting Kelley lips with her tongue. Kelley’s breath warms her soul, calms her pounding heart.

Tonight, if she’s going to get her way, she wants Kelley just like this. Under her. Legs wrapped around her. Fingers tangled in her hair.

Only one more night together.

Only one more morning waking up, arms and legs twisted under heavy blankets.

She wants to spend what little time she has left uncovering all the things about Kelley that she has yet to.


End file.
